Maybe Someday
by TheNightimeSky
Summary: TwT,TiN – For Ponyboy, it was only the story of his luckless romance. But in reality, it was so much more than that. Ponyboy's problems are far from over as he continues to grow up in Tulsa's underworld as life gets more complicated all around him.
1. Dismissing The Feeling

**Author's Note: **

It must have to do with the fact that my computer is now fully functional again, but I am INSPIRED. _Yes. _Feel my wrath, and beware of horribly grotesque spelling errors that lie in your wake. Unless you turn back now. And if you do that, then you're a little bugger, aren't you?

So I took a little whack at the CathyxPony romance that made us all trip over our dogs, and have them bite us on our calves, and having to fear rabies until the test came back. Or maybe that was just me. But at any rate, I found it very difficult, to say the least. Did it seem out of the blue for Hinton to make them like each other? I don't think she thought through it very well at all, to tell you the truth. But that's not my business. Who owns "The Outsiders? Not fucking me, that's who.

**Thanks, **to NittanyLizard who gave me all the technical _shtuff_ that I needed for this. The book altogether was confusing, okay? It's not my fault for being dumb, for once. I thank mais. CAPITALS for … sparking the idea, which was half a year ago (which gives y'all an idea about how fucked up I am), and … to my buddies who helped me write from a boy POV when dealing with girlies. =3

**Disclaimer, **I own everything. Susie and I are lyk, bffls, and all that shit. Cool, huh?

_Lyrics ~_ James Blunt.

_Title_ ~ Bon Jovi (or West Side Story. Whatever floats your boat, really.)

And … onward.

* * *

_My life is brilliant / My love is pure.  
I saw an angel ... Of that I'm sure._

I was making my way home from track practice after school one fall day - we actually didn't start till the Spring, but Coach could be a real hardass when he wanted; 'stead of having us all come back in Spring, swearin' under God that we practiced "we really did", and pantin' like dogs by the end of practice one, he kept us under a new program. I didn't mind though - I liked running.

I guessed that I had a good ten minutes to get home, and decided to light one up. I flicked my lighter, smilin'at the _fwwwk_ sound, lit my cigarette and placed it in my mouth gratefully. This was just practice, anyway. It wouldn't hurt none - I'd stop when track came rollin' in, and 'sides, I hardly even smoke anymore. On the weekdays.

I found myself casually glancing up and down the block, not just for anyone itching to jump me, but I wondered if the cigarette made me look tough, or just like some dorky kid trying to act tuff.

Being a greaser was starting to mean less and less as far as "tough" went. Was a time where all you had to do was slick back your hair and leave your shirttail hanging out, and people avoided you like the bubonic plague - now everyone wanted to look more tough, and when everyone's tough, no one is.

I let out a sigh, and thought of what I had to show for the year. September had come and gone, and I thought how I had nothing to show for the year, 'cept good grades, my hair growin' back, and gettin' on with my life.

I hadn't really s'pected _it _to blow over so quickly - I guess I floated through most of it; Not like I was in any real danger with Two-Bit and Steve around, but the Socs all seemed to just let us brood over what happened. I guess that's what happens - something hurts you, like having a buddy die, you don't want anyone knowing you're hurting. Sure, you can let your friends know, but by retaliating? By getting your feelings out there? What's that good for? I guess that's how we're all the same.

I really didn't mind getting through school last year with my head in my books, and just keeping it low - it didn't bother me none, I thought, but then something happened.

Something real bad.

You know how it is, when something works one way your whole life, and suddenly, before you can even blink, it just changes. It's kind of like being blindfolded and shoved onto a moving train - and after a while, you get shoved off, wondering where the hell you are, and knowing that there's no way back.

I guess all that can be said is … Soda was right. I was in school one day, and I had to be paired up with a girl in History. She was real cute, with dark eyes and dirty-blonde hair, and normally I'd think that, and just go back to work. But it didn't happen that way. I was distracted through the whole class, wondering what it'd be like to kiss her - if she'd kissed a guy before, or if she'd giggle, and blush. I wondered what would happen if I asked her out, if she'd say "no" …

And it seemed like I had been put on a battlefield that I had no training for.

And boy was I screwed over.

But I got through it. I started payin' a little more attention to myself - if my face was too round, or my ears sticked out any; I thought about asking Sodapop for advice, but felt it too embarrassing. God, how must it be to not be able to tell _Soda? _But no matter what I did, nothing seemed to work. I'd volunteer to help a girl, and she'd talk to me in a clipped, reserved tone, as if she would rather be anywhere else but with me at the class.

I had a couple of buddies that I'd hang out with after school, and if there ever happened to be a girl, her eyes would get all wide, and make some dumb excuse to leave.

Actually, it seems like the last girl I had a real, full-fledged conversation with was Cherry, and I learned a while ago that she's not just a girl for any guy; I could never "score a fulltime gig" with her, as Terry might say. I know that doesn't make any sense, but you should hear the other things Terry says - not to be mean or nothing, but he's not the brightest of the bunch.

I guess Soda got all of the charm in our family. I reached my house, and turned into the door, feeling a lot more lousy than I had before the cigarette.

"Hey, Ponyboy, how was school?" Darry asked me, not looking up from a paper, a small frown gathering in the corner of his mouth.

"Good," I chimed in monotonously, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

"And track practice?" he called out, as I made my way to my room.

"It's not _track, _Dare," I informed him, "it's just drills. It was okay."

"You have homework?"

"_Yes, _I'm getting to it now, Darry," I told him in a slight biting tone.

"Alright, _good_," he said, holding out the 'gooood'.

I looked at the last letter we'd gotten from Sodapop - it was pretty recent, and that wasn't too surprising. He was still stationed in the States, until December, _'just in time for Christmas', _he said. I think he was tryin' to be good-natured and all, making sure I didn't worry, but I could tell he was getting nervous about being put in Nam.

- - -

"So there, Baby Curtis, whaddya say?"

I rolled my eyes at Greg Willamson's 'nickname' for me. He'd originally been a buddy of Soda's, but after Soda left, I guess we just got a little closer. He was only a year and a half older 'n me, and was already talking war talk - He sure wasn't my most favorite person - he kinda treated me like a little kid, but he wasn't much like Steve had been. He was more brotherly and teasing, kinda like Two-Bit.

"Well," I started, "We'd all be going together? I 'unno, man … don't y'all have dates?"

"Well, I'd think that'd be obvious, Ponyboy." Mark Jenning's turned his face to me, as he rummaged through the car, "I'd take the best lookin' person to the dance, but why would I go alone? So I'll settle for the next best, even if he _is _a Curtis." He made a grotesque face, and I laughed.

"You're full of it, Mark," I chuckled. I looked at the hood curiously. I was reminded of Steve and Soda suddenly, seeing Terry and Mark work on the car, arguing.

"Don't you put this one in the right side, Mark?" Terry asked, his round face looking unsure.

"You don't know shit, man," Mark told him, punching him lightly, "It's left. _Always _left."

But wait … Was that right? It was a four-cylinder engine, not a six, so to hotwire it, you put it on the right. Still. I guess Mark did know best.

He plugged it in, "See? Voila. Now, Curtis, you comin' or what? It don't get much better 'n this. Maybe I'll rope Bryon in it too. I'll sweeten the deal by telling him you're coming."

"Oh, sure," I said sardonically, "He'd jump at the chance to find some way to get me, right?" I smirked. Bryon Douglas was a buddy of Mark's. A _great _buddy in fact; they made like brothers, and even lived together. I was always filled with a pang of loneliness seeing them. God, I missed Soda. Even Johnny. _We_ were like brothers; I hope Mark or Bryon didn't do something stupid to let their friendship go like mine had. I wish I could tell them …

Anyway, Bryon didn't like me a whole lot. He'd left one time I'd come with Mark, and Mark just told me, "he don't like you too much, Curtis". I never really understood why, 'cept that maybe I talked to his girl once or something - that's what Mark's brother was like. Always datin' girls, and he had a hot temper. He was a pretty big guy, too - but I think I could take him, if I ever needed to.

"Ow! Motherfucking bastard! Shit!" Mark yelped, cursing a blue streak, apparently after being electrically shocked by the car. "Dammit, Terry!" he growled, "why didn't you tell me I plugged the wire in the wrong fucking place?"

I started laughing. It wasn't that funny, but the angry fire in Mark's eyes combined with him waving his hand up and down was too funny to pass up for a good laugh.

- - -

I figured I had nothing to lose. I mean, I was going with Greg, Terry, and Mark to the dance, and maybe I'd meet someone there. Bryon had a date with yet _another _girl which actually kinda made me angry. Sure, I'm not a ladies' man like him, but least I didn't go hating people whom I've never said five words to. I kinda wondered why they all drew to him so much.

I was sitting at home, about fifteen minutes before I got picked up, absent-mindedly watching some old sitcom on TV.

"Hello, Curtis … _o's_." I turned down the TV, and looked up to see Two-Bit making his way through the door. He seemed to be in a good mood. Lately, he hasn't been hanging 'round much, but I've seen him on his way to Buck's, or some raunchy place that I probably couldn't go to. Here he was, though, smiling dopily, bobbing his head to the TV's music.

"Hey, there, Two-Bit," I greeted him, moving over for him to sit.

"Oh, there he is. Young Ponyboy Curtis getting all spiffied up for the dance, I see," he said cheerfully.

"Hmm," I grunted. "You going, too?" I kinda hoped he wouldn't - not like I had enough problems trying to get a girl; last thing I needed was to be Two-Bit's punch line for the evening. Still, I missed Two-Bit, and there were times where I wished we could be good buddies again, like we used to. Sure, he came over now and then, but it wasn't the same, really.

I'd see him around school, and we'd be friendly, just the same, but it was odd how we didn't really know what was going on with each other anymore - I never realized how different we are, and without everyone here, Darry, Two-Bit, and me just didn't seem to be able to keep it together.

"Nah." He waved it off with his hand, "I'm beyond high school parties. Such a waste of time. And you know how I feel about time-wasters." He scoffed at me. I snorted.

"It's gonna stay clean for all of two seconds, Two-Bit. When the booze come rollin' in, and the hippies come to stir things up, it's all probably gonna go downhill, I think," I laughed. It was weird, because Two-Bit'd finally gotten to his senior year, but there'd be days where he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than at school.

"Then get out of there as soon as it does." Darry came striding into the room. "You need a place to stay tonight, Two-Bit?"

"Yeah," he answered, pondering over it, "Eventually, I s'pose. Just wanted to give y'all a little heads-up 'fore I do." We knew what he meant. It's been a while since people came and went. After all, it was usually just Steve or Johnny, and with Steve gone off to training, and Johnny being gone, it wasn't that common anymore.

"Alright. That's fine. Ponyboy, make sure you're in by eleven, do you understand?" Darry told me, taking me in with his impenetrable, firm gaze.

"Okay, Dare, I promise." A car honked outside.

"Hey, come on, Baby Curtis, we're _waiting," _Greg's voice came out. Two-Bit laughed.

"They really call you 'Baby Curtis'? That's great!" His eyes gleamed, smile wide.

"Glad to oblige. See y'all later," I told them, walking out the door.

- - -

"So, Mark, what's been happenin'?" Terry asked him as soon as I got in. Terry only lived a couple of blocks away. I figured he just got here too.

"Hmm." His golden eyes never left the road, his smile crawling onto his face, "What hasn't been happening?"

I looked at Mark curiously. If I had to place him somewhere in a book, it'd probably be from _A Separate Peace, _with that main character, Phineas, who was always hatching these new, trailblazing ideas, dazzling everyone with that quirky intelligence, and always busting with that incomparable, matchless mind - hypnotizing those to do his bidding, no one knowing that without everyone else's support, he had nothing.

He turned back to me, where I'm looking out the window, gripping the side of the car. I'm used to fast drivers, but Mark's 'bout my age; it'd be like me driving that fast, and that sure don't ease me none. "We're meetin' Bryon and his girl at the dance."

"She cute, Jennings?" Greg asked. I knew he'd do that. He's what Terry'd call a "wanna-be-never-gonna-be-ladies'-man". It's not that he's ugly or anything; I guess Bryon's just better connected or something.

"Who, Cathy?" Mark snorted. "God, man, she's always wrinkling her nose, and talkin' like I'm an idiot, and has a ruler shoved up her ass." I cringed a bit. I don't really like hearing the guys - even my friends - talk about girls that way. It just bugs me.

"So, that a no?" Greg persisted.

"That's a 'no'. Man, Bryon had it better with Angel; least she was good for something."

Angel was Angela Shepard. I knew Curly pretty well, but not Tim so much. The Shepards and I were civil to each other, which is more than I can say for Greg or Mark or Bryon. Terry and I lived near Tim, though, so we stuck together. Angela had a reputation as a real greaser girl - she was only nice to me because I was friends with her brothers; Tim and Curly knew the score: Don't burn out your allies. So she left me alone.

I looked out the window, as the other guys talked - I wonder what I'd be doing today if the gang was still together. I might've gone to the dance. Hell, I might've had a girl to go with. I'd like to think that I'd have a nice girl, but the whole mess last year pretty much ruined my chance at being liked, or talked to. I still heard whispers … Still heard rumors. I wish Johnny was here to go through it with me, though.

I closed my eyes, and let the wind run it's smooth, cool hands across my face, feeling lonelier than ever.

- - -

By eight thirty, Terry'd passed out in the front seat of his old Buick, and Mark and Greg were laughing and gulping down the six-packs that Terry brought.

I decided I'd just take one, to get the guys offa my back. I tried not to drink so much, mostly because the last couple of times I tried, I liked it so much, that it kinda scared me. So I laid off of it.

"Hey, guys, let's get goin' into the dance, alright?" Greg told us, beckoning us to follow. Mark didn't seem to like being told what to do by Greg, so instead of walking down the normal way, he jumped up onto the bike rack, runnin' cross it, and flipped off.

"Tada!" he declared. I laughed. Mark was a good buddy to have. I loped back to Terry, and made sure to turn him over on his side. I didn't want him throwing up, or anything, and then having him choke.

"Let's go," he said jauntily, "Man, I wanna show the _nose _on this girl of Bryon's." He motioned his hand out from his face. I guess she had a big nose. "Geez, Bryon's gonna flip his lid when his girl gets a look at you, hotshot!" He grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"Quit it, Mark," I snapped. That was the problem. I was okay looking, and people like Bryon still got all the girls. It really steamed me up. "I couldn't get her if her nose was the size of Texas, and you know it."

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled, looking at me, the sun freckles on his cheeks visible in the sudden spot of light under the streetlight, "You really don't know. Man, you're a fucking _riot, _Curtis."

"Know _what_?" I said through my teeth. But Mark just waved me off.

"Hey, get back here, Mark! Know_ what?" _

I ran up to catch him, and he laughed when I did. We reached the dance, and I realized how loud and dark it was in there.

"Hey, Bryon!" Mark called out. Shit. I looked up to see Bryon, with his arm around this girl I hadn't seen before. I really didn't give a hang whether or not Bryon Douglas hated me or not - I already knew what that was like - but when some big, confident guy's glaring at you like that, you sure don't feel so hot.

"_Hi, _Cathy," Mark pressed ecstatically, his smile large. It was like Mark to taunt every girl of Bryon's. Kinda like the kid brother with his older one. Or maybe he was just above it all. "I haven't seen you in a long time!"

"I haven't been here to see," the girl answered prudently.

"I don't think you know Ponyboy Curtis - this is Cathy Carlson."

"_Here it comes," _I thought boredly, but it never did. Not even a chuckle. I looked over the girl, and thought, "_What was Mark's talking about?" _She was beautiful - even in the dark, I could see she had this long, dark hair framing a heart-shaped, small face - and eyes … eyes like the clouds at sunrise; gray and calming … I felt my heart skip a little.

"Hi," I said, trying not to look at Bryon. Jerk like him even gets the _beautiful _girls. I sighed. Cathy looked away after a quick nod, and small smile (_Golly, even her teeth are nice.) _, and I heard Bryon turn to Mark, a smirk on his face, "Where'd you get the booze?"

I felt real annoyed just then, and started walking away. Seems like all Bryon had to do was ask the girl out, and they accepted. He could be a booze-hound, oafish, dumb kid, and I got to be the victim.

I walked away, looking at Cathy one more time. Maybe Mark was right.

Maybe she _does _have a big nose.

_I saw your face ... in a crowded place;  
And I don't know what to do._

_  
'Cause I'll never be ... with you._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_None _of you can convince me otherwise - Hinton completely made TwT while her subconscious was locked onto _A Separate Peace. _Think, all of you who have read both books, and …

I KNOW, right? Isn't that fucking insane, how ALIKE they are?

If you haven't read _A Separate Peace _yet, you're probably deprived of something deep and symbolic, but I'm not altogether sure what it is just yet. (Oh, my? Is my ignorance showing?)

Pfft. Yeah, that's about it.

Oh! Wait.

In this story, Sodapop has JUST left for "boot camp" [November]. People went over for a certain amount of weeks, and spent about a year in Nam. Nifty, huh? Steve's gone, too. Not necessarily with Soda - but that part's not altogether important. Um … what else? Neither of us knew _when _TwT took place - I said autumn, she said August, but I put it as November because I already wrote it with Sodapop gone.

I think I did well with Mark; what did you think? Do you guys think Pony's too whiny and/or reflective upon events from a year ago? I referenced a lot of the gang, but I felt that they were important. This may be TwT - TiN, but it IS about "The Outsiders", right?

Happy November 21st, my readers! Read, review, flame; do what you must, and do it well.

P.S. - Look back at the first part of my disclaimer, and tell me if I tricked you, or not. I don't own "The Outsiders". Haha. ;)


	2. All That High School Drama

__

**Author's Note:**

**Happy Thanksgiving to all (well, all who celebrate it. Otherwise, Happy November 25th**** to the rest of you - bless you for not gorging on poor stuffed birds)! May I be the one to remind my fellow Americans that you DON'T need to eat a turkey to celebrate in this holiday in which those hard-ass Puritans thanked the Natives, and then wound up stealing their land anyway. Stupid holiday. **

**For what it's worth, most of my family reigns from Italy, so I feel no guilt in the persecution of the poor Native Americans. When we get to Pearl Harbor Day I'll feel a **_**little **_**worse. **

**I shall be in mourning for the turkey this year when I go to the hospital today. My mother has told me numerous times I am to do NO such thing, and I shall be walking home if I do. Apparently Mommy Dearest doesn't care if her wonderful daughter gets abducted by pedophile. And you wonder why I'm so messed up …**

* * *

_They gotta lotta girls who know they got it going on_

_But nothing's ever a comparison to you. _

_Now can't you see that you're the only one I really want?_

_And everything I need is everything you do? _

_

* * *

_

"

See, Ponyboy? Here we are, alone, the best two lookin' guys in all'a Tulsa," Mark proclaimed, laying down on the hood of the car, taking a long gulp of his beer. He paused, "Make that all of Oklahoma, actually. And!" He started up, sitting now, though swaying slightly. "We're all alone. You know why? Know why?"

"Unworthy, of course," I affirmed, nodding. I had a bit of a buzz I guess. I don't drink a lot, so even a little has me loosened up. I could see that I would need to take the bottle away from Mark soon though.

"Yes!" he cried, "Unworthy!" He cackled. "Man, you're the greatest, you know that?" He slung an arm around my shoulder, looking at me with glazed over eyes.

"Alright, Mark, I think you're done …"

He pouted, "Fine," he said dramatically, throwing the bottle in the grass.

"Hey."

We both sat up and looked in front of us.

"You Ponyboy Curtis?" The guy snorted, and I could feel my anger rising.

"What's it to you?" I snapped, trying to look cool. The guy was big, alright. But I could see the way his mouth hung a little open, and his eyes looked permanently glazed over and tired that he wasn't too bright.

"A'ight," he mumbled, "Come over here, you little shit," he snarled.

And the next thing I knew, he took a swing at me, I swung back, and then I was running to Bryon, as Mark lay on the ground bleeding.

"Bryon! Come quick! Mark's hurt!" I told him. At first he looked a little mad at me, but as soon as I spoke the magic words "Mark's hurt", he sprung into action, not even stopping to let me show him the way.

"Mark?" Bryon whispered when he saw his brother and I felt bad for him. Because I could think of a time where this happened to me - Johnny, nearly unconscious, beaten black and blue, or Steve moaning and groaning as Soda kneeled next to him, whispering calmly.

He turned to me now, all trace of surliness gone, "Did anyone call an ambulance?"

"Uh, yeah," I confirmed, glad to bring some good news, "they radioed for one."

He nodded. His dark eyes scanned the crowd, and dropped on the guy who hit Mark with the bottle. "That the guy that did it?"

I felt angry too. Mark hadn't done nothing, and did it to protect me. "Yeah."

"Buddy boy, you are dead," Bryon snarled, laying out on the guy, who looked pretty scared. I knew he was. Nearly sixteen years living on the East Side, and you know the tricks to hide your emotions.

I could see Bryon fuming, and tried to calm him down, "He was trying to get me, if that makes a difference."

His face contorted in fury, "If he'd gotten you, he'd be doing me a favor!" he growled, and I couldn't help but smirk. Bryon may've hated me, but he sure was bad at keeping it closed off. He looked a little cooled off. "So, what happened?"

I tell him the story of how the guy hit me first, and then cracked Mark on the head with the bottle. Instead of paling like I had expected, he just frowned, a dark glare on his face.

" … Then the cop shows up. Right in the nick of time," I finished bitterly. I just never seemed to catch a break and I was tired of it.

We talked a little while longer, the cop asked me a few questions, and then Bryon left with Mark in the ambulance.

The siren sent chills down my spine, and I figured the only thing to do was go back inside. 'Boy, it sure is freezing out here,' I told myself, the warmth of the night sucked away suddenly.

"Oh, God, this is awful!" Cathy whispered, as the ambulance runs, sirens wailing. "I can't believe that girl …"

"Yeah," I muttered to her, "What does Angela have to do with this? Bryon promised to explain, but well … "

She pursed her lips, still looking a little worried, "I don't know. I think she likes you ."

"Nah," I told her. And then it was silent. "Well, I'll be seeing you, I guess."

"Yeah," she mumbled, "See you."

And I think how it must be to be Cathy. I've seen girls of my friends sob after these things happen, and there's Cathy, taking it like a pro. Maybe she had older brothers and was used to this? I wanted to tell her to expect more of this stuff from Bryon but I didn't. He may not havedeserved her but maybe he wasn't so bad. And in all reality, since when do people get what they deserve?

I thought about it, remembering Mom and Dad dying, and Darrygetting old before he hit twenty-five; I thought of Bob Sheldon dating Cherry Valance, one of the nicest girls I've ever met.

It wasn't fair, but I was used to it. I walked away and looked back. Cathy was staring off in the distance at the sky, and for the first time in a while, I'm not thinking of how to get her, I'm thinking, "I wonder if she always watches the stars."

It's a nice thought. I walk back to the dance to tell Greg what happened.

"Hey, Ponyboy."

I turned around. I had just gotten back from telling Greg about Mark and Bryon and told him take Terry home, but make sure he gets in without his Mom finding out; I don't think he knew how he was going to do it, but I really didn't care at that point. The whole night was kind of a bust, actually.

So, anyway. I turned around at the sound of my name, and there was Angela Shepard. I always wondered how Curly and Tim could have a great-looking girl like Angela as their sister but I guess it was just luck of the draw. I'd rather get tarred and feathered than make a move on Angela, though. And now that Curly was out of the reformatory - as wild and orney as ever - and Tim was prowlin' round like he owned the lower East side - well, they'd personallytake the responsibility of my beating which is much worse than tar and feathers.

"Hey, Angela. How's Curly?" I asked her, scratching my head absentmindedly.

She huffed, and I wondered what I said, "They're both fine, Ponyboy. You should come see them more often," she told me coyly, smiling sadly. "Oh, look what he did." She sighed, "Did that bastard hurt you?"

"Huh?" I stated, "Oh, yeah … Nah, it don't hurt too much."

"Oh, that's good," she told me, beaming. Her eyes were lined in dark pencil, her smile smirking on her small face. "You know, when I heard you'd gotten hurt, I was real worried, Ponyboy." She touched my arm, running her fingers up and down gently. Her nails were bright red, almost like they were on fire - they were cool.

"Really?" I asked her, puzzled. "Why?"

She groaned, looking agitated, "Why do you think, Curtis?" she snapped. "God, you're such a headcase sometimes. I can see why - "

"Hey, leave him alone." I turn around, and see Cathy, glaring at Angela, coming up to me. "We all know it was you who turned that guy onto Ponyboy; don't act so innocent," she hissed. I raised my eyebrows.

Wow. Cathy's sure got some guts to stand up to Angela Shepard like that. I looked at her, a little admiringly, her nose wrinkled, her gray eyes ablaze. Mark didn't know what he was talking about. She's great looking.

"Wait … " I said slowly, gathering up what Cathy said, "You sent him on me? Why, Angela?" I asked her, feeling a little put out. I thought maybe it had to do with Tim or Curly - I figured I did something bone-headed, and made them angry.

"I sure as hell won't try it again!" she hissed, and flounced off, her hips swaying.

I turned back to Cathy, noticing the contrast between her and Angela. Angela was dark and sultry; beautiful, but dangerous - like the nymphs I've read about in Greek mythology. But Cathy … Cathy had class; she was bold and vivacious, but she was a greaser, like us. It made me even more attracted to her; she was special.

"Thanks," I told her, and she merely nodded, not even looking at me.

I turned to leave again, and stopped, "Hey, come with me."

"What?" She turned her gaze to me, "What for?"

"Do you want to go see Bryon?"

I tried to tell myself that it was fatigue finally overwhelming me when I find myself detesting the look of joy on her face when I mention him.

Not jealousy.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Ah …**

**It's short. I know. **

**By the way, I don't own "The Outsiders." See, I spilt my coffee onto Susie's manuscript of the sequel to "****The Outsiders", ****and now she refuses to make another one. So, lyk, we're TOTALLY broken up - bffldom OVER. So the rights were retracted from me. **

**Sorry, guys. No sequel for you. : )**

**Oh, and the lyrics are by Jesse McCartney. To all you cynical buttmunchers who hate him because he's "squeal worthy" and of "pop culture", I suggest you fucking ****deal ****with it, yeah? He's R-E-A-L-L-Y pretty; go look him up if you haven't seen him before. **

**Remember what I said about the turkey!**

**BYE - **

**TNS f**


	3. The Golden Silence

**I own none of what you see here. Enjoy. Or suffer through it. Either is fine with me.**

**(I could give you all lame-ass excuses as to why it's been two months, but I won't**

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_Then we jumped in the car, and drove as far as we could go/_

_Just to get away …_

She doesn't talk to me a lot on the way there. I had been bracing myself to making up stories when she asked about my family (I guess I still didn't like telling people, even thought most knew), but I think what I liked most about Cathy was that she _didn't _know me; about last year, my parents, even Sodapop. She would find out eventually, but if I could have this one little window of peace, then I'd take it.

This silence wasn't awkward or unpleasant. I looked at her walking behind me, lips pursed slightly, concentrating on her shoes. This silence was golden.

"Hey, where's Bryon's car?" I asked her over my shoulder.

"He won't be happy that you took it," she pointed out, "He's a little possessive."

"Yeah, well," I started, sounding sarcastic, "he'll get over it when he doesn't have to hitchhike some ride home, or pay for a cab, won't he?"

She tilted her head at me, and suddenly smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. You know," she said, watching me open the hood of Bryon's car, "you talk differently from other people your age. Do you live around here?"

"_Well, wasn't expecting that," _I thought amusedly. I chuckled. "All of my life."

"Really?" I leaned over the hood, trying to get the back for the wire.

"Yeah," I told her shortly.

"I just got back, actually. I went to boarding school before this, but ran out of money."

"Really?" I grunted, trying to find a screwdriver now, "That's too bad."

"Hmmm. I don't really mind though. I missed my little brother a lot."

"Oh."

She stopped talking after a while, and I guess that was all for the better. It was hard to concentrate on the car.

Finally, I connected the terminal, and the car roared to life.

"Get in," I told her, then thought to myself later, "_Shit. I should've opened her door for her." _

- - -

It wasn't too hard to find Bryon. We just walked up to the floor where Mark was at, and there he was.

"Hey," I told him, hoping that things were alright between us now, "I brought your car. I figured you wouldn't have a way to get home. Mark going home?"

"Yeah. Doctor wants him to rest a couple of days."

"Hey, hey, hey, Ponyboy!" Mark said cheerfully to me. I couldn't help but grin.

Mark was supported under me and Bryon, and when we got him in the car, Bryon suddenly asked, "How did you start the car without any keys?"

Cathy frowned at me, apparently oblivious to the procedure I'd been doin before. _Maybe she was distracted. _And I beat the thought out of my head. Not distracted of _me; _she liked Bryon, Ponyboy. Bryon. "Yeah, how did you?"

I could feel my face flush, "I hotwired it. Mark showed me how."

I saw Bryon smile a half, grim smile, "Yeah, well, don't make a habit of it."

I shrugged, smiling, "It was my first time."

"Hey, we'll drive you home, Curtis," Bryon told me, getting in the front seat.

"Thanks," I told him. He just grunted, and opened the door for Cathy.

I slid into the back of the car, and Mark raised up his legs on my lap and laid down. He started humming, and I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Hey," I told Bryon and Cathy, "either of you have the time?"

I felt that trickling, painful fear trap me again; it hung in the air, thick and heavy. I couldn't be late. I just … couldn't.

"Nope." Bryon.

"Yeah," Cathy informed me, looking at her wristwatch. She tucked some of her long hair to behind her ears, "It's 11:45."

I sucked in a little, and swore under my breath. _Shit. _

_- - -_

Bryon dropped me off right near my house; I wasn't itchin' on them hearing a fight, if I had one, with Darry, especially Cathy.

"See ya, Ponyboy!" Mark cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

"Bye, Mark," I told him, chuckling. "See ya, Bryon. Bye, Cathy."

"Bye, Ponyboy," Cathy said, smiling at me softly. I felt my heart speed up again.

"Yeah, see ya 'round, Curtis," Bryon told me, "And er - thanks, I guess."

"Yeah, no problem." My mouth got dry, and I walked through the gate, rushing up the door as soon as possible.

I swung open the door, as it slammed with a loud _crack, _and started talking as fast as possible, "Darry, look, I'm sorry, but - "

I scanned around the room, before realizing that there was no one there. What? I gulped, and continued to search around the house. If he caught me off guard, and I just stood there, it would be bad. I began thinking about Cathy - her small smile that shone with that quirky intelligence, and it calmed me down. "Darry?"

Now I was getting worried. Our house wasn't big or nothing, and the walls were 'bout as thin as paper - you could hear everything, no matter where you were in the house. There'd be times at night when I was younger, and I'd be able to hear Dad snoring away at night, or trying t eavesdrop on some conversation of Soda's while he was on the phone. I was getting panicky, now.

"I'm home!" I called out, "Darry? Two-Bit?"

I went to the kitchen, and saw a note in bright red marker on the fridge. I tore it off, scanning it, "_Ponyboy - Two-Bit's real sick, and I had to take him home. Don't worry, and get some sleep. Darry."_

Sick? When did this happen? I had the sinking impression that Darry wasn't telling me the whole story - Two-Bit was just fine today; even more than fine, if you want to know the truth. We all changed after Johnny and Dally, and Two-Bit seemed to get quieter and a little more serious.

Some days he'd be laughing and wild - but those were just little glimmers; sometimes he was even _less_ like himself those days. There were times he'd just sit there, some dazed look on his face, like he was thinking something really important; he was getting moody, and I wondered if this had something to do with it.

'_Darry - Got it. Thanks. Pony.' _I scribbled the note on the bottom of the page, and wondered what the hell Darry was thinking. 'Get some sleep'? Two-Bit was still my friend, and I'd probably wake up looking like a zombie from _Night of the Living Dead, _tomorrow because I stayed up all night.

I wondered vaguely why Darry just didn't let Two-Bit stay here. People used to stay over all the time - we'd keep the door unlocked, and people would just come and go. I was drifting off, thinking how if we kept the door unlocked, maybe they would come home eventually. Steve would bring Soda home, and maybe even Johnny would find his way back … hell, maybe even Dally would come along. Maybe he missed us, too.

I settled down on the couch, and just sat there. I was slowly drifting off, and the last thing I remember thinking of was Cathy's groovy, dark hair, and funnily enough, Angela Shepard's glare when I asked her why she did it. I suddenly knew what Mark was talking about when he said I 'really didn't know', but before I could keep a firm grasp on the realization, I slipped off to sleep, my head throbbing, but feeling that the night wasn't a total bust after all.

_And now I'm thinking about how I wish I could go back/_

_Just for one more day … one more day with you._

_Everytime I see your face; everytime you look my way, _

…_Everything feels right._

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**Yeah? No? Well, review anyway. **


	4. Stupid Kid

Author's Note;

WHAT? I updated twice in one week? Is there something wrong with me?! Will this last? Probably not. Enjoy, loves. Or suffer. I'm really enjoying this fic; please review more guys. If you review for this chapter, I'll tell you who makes an appearance next chapter (Don't guess Two-Bit, smartass.)

**Disclaimer; **I do not own "The Outsiders" & "That Was Then, This Is Now" by S.E. Hinton, nor "Burn, Burn" by Lostprophets.

…_But do you think, that we're that blind?_

_That we can't see, through all your lies? _

'_Cause it's no good …_

* * *

Murmuring.

"Pony?"

I grunted, and swatted an object away from my face, burying my head in the thin, hard pillows. I was freezing, and wondered where my jacket went, before realizing that I didn't bring one. I'm still doing things like that.

"Pony?" someone whispered, "Come on, kiddo. You alright?"

I opened my eyes, and stretched my arms. I groaned. "Darry? Where were you?"

"Two-Bit's," he informed me, "Didn't you get the note?"

"Whu - ? Oh, oh, yeah, I guess I did." I yawned. "I wrote you a note back."

He looked at me, slightly curiously, and a little bewildered, "That's … nice?"

"Mmm." I sat up, "What time is it?"

"It's about 12:30 in the morning. When'd you get home?" Darry asked.

"Oh, 'bout … eleven," I lied smoothly, yawning to cover up any conspicuous facial expressions. We walked to the kitchen together, where Darry peered at the note. "When'd you take Two-Bit? Where is he? Is he alright?"

"Dammit," Darry cursed lightly, and then lifted up the note, "Pony! The marker bled through the paper. Hmm, I wonder if it'll come out … " He rummaged around into the drawer, taking out a towel to wipe off the fridge.

"Forget the damn fridge, Darry," I snapped, "How's Two-Bit?"

He ran the towel under the faucet, slowly rubbing his finger over it. "He's fine, Pony. Just a little sick."

" 'A little'? Darry, the last time he was sick, and we all knew it, was when he was fifteen, and we were playin' in the lot. He puked, and Steve slipped, falling face first into the mess. 'Member how he was chasing Two-Bit around the lot, and we were all just laughing?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, I do." There was a pause. "Look, Pony, Two-Bit's got his way of dealing with shit - when you feel down, you go out running, right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed him, slowly, "So, what? He got shitfaced, and you had to take him home?" He met my gaze, but I didn't break it.

"Er - yeah. Lord, he was puking so much, I thought I'd have to take him to the hospital … He was kinda out of it, anyway. I helped him in the truck, and I called his mama. She just sighed, and thanked me. Said she'd probably make him rest for the rest of the day. No questions asked." Darry rubbed his face, looking real tired, "Two-Bit's lucky; he's got a great mom."

"I wish … " I said slowly, then stopped. I didn't know what I wished. I wanted everything to be as it was before - with us seven, and not having to have our lives hangin' on a wire. With two of our friends (one being my brother) not fighting in some war; pawns in a bloody game. I wanted to tell Darry all that, and I think I'd be speaking for both of us, but you just don't tell Darry things like that.

"Why didn't Two-Bit just stay here?"

Darry bit his lip, and didn't look at me. His light blue eyes rested on something I couldn't see. "Pone, we was just really out of it last night. He wanted to go home."

I felt sick all of a sudden. What had Two-Bit said last night to make Darry this dejected? Did he whine and plead like a little kid? Or yell at Darry? Maybe he finally broke, just like Dally did. Just like all the people like him will - Tim Shepard, The Brumly Boys, maybe even someone like Bryon Douglas.

"I'm tired," I whispered, "I'm going to bed, alright?"

"Alright. I'll see you this afternoon."

We both turned away, in separate directions out of the kitchen.

Some things never change.

- - -

I woke up at about ten o'clock - Darry had an early day on Saturday, and I had track later in the evening. I just poured myself cereal, like I usually did. Nowadays, I didn't have enough energy to make eggs, and there was a lot less to cook for, so cereal worked fine. We still had cake, but it always tasted wrong. Not sweet enough.

I finally was done, and decided to just take a walk outside. I had a little homework, but I'd get to it later. It was Saturday, after all.

I ended up just wandering downtown, near the main drag, but not a lot was going on. I guess people were at church, or something. I felt bad that I didn't go a lot anymore, but I never realized how much it helped having Johnny there with me - I was kinda scared to go alone, which sounds dumb, I know.

I figured I'd run into someone by the time I reached one of the main hangouts, and I lingered around the stores for a while. I spent a good thirty minutes in the nearby bookstore, before I got fed up with the nasty looks all of the middle-aged ladies reading crummy romances were giving me, and decided I'd rather not be found in a bookstore, anyway.

I saw a lot of comic book geeks roamin' round the comic store, but no one else my age around. I'd ran into a couple of guys, and we just chatted, talking about different things. Right outside the bowling alley, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

"How's the head wound, man?"

I turned around, to see the smirk of Curly Shepard.

"Hey, Curly," I replied casually, "How's it going?"

"Guess it did some damage, after all. I asked first, kid," he grumbled, and held out his pack of Kools, "You still smoke, or you move on?"

It was tempting, I'll admit it, but I felt like I really didn't want it right now. I don't know why, but I felt really happy to see him all of a sudden, "Nope. And how do you know 'bout it?"

"Angela," he replied simply, placing the smoke in his mouth, and held it with his teeth to the tip, so he didn't burn himself with the lighter, "Boy, she mad at you or _what, _Curtis." He snickered.

"I didn't do anything." I frowned sourly, "It was a low thing to do, Curly. Your sister acted pretty dumb last night."

Instead of bawling me out like a normal older brother might've, Curly just shrugged. "Angel's a stupid girl."

That actually wasn't too true. She was clever, and knew how to get what she wanted, but from what I saw last night, when she didn't get it, she had a pretty nasty temper, and that made her look bad. "She sure made a few enemies."

He sneered, "You mean Jennings? That kid's a fucking lunatic, and he wouldn't know what to do if someone punched him square in his pretty little face. That kid's not worth _shit; _Angela can hate him all she wants. I can take Jennings."

I squirmed. Hearing a friend rip out on some other friend doesn't make you feel too great, but I knew better than to pick a fight with Curly, 'specially since I was smarting pretty bad. I meant to take some aspirins, but I guess I forgot.

"Mark ain't bad. The guy didn't fight fair."

"So?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders, and snorting. But didn't challenge my point.

"Whatever," he said simply, "I like you, man -- don't get why you hang with Jennings and his little gang of misfits."

"Well, wouldn't want to tarnish my good name by hanging out with scum like you, Shepard." I grinned teasingly at him. He glowered at me, and I hastened to add, "I'm kidding, Curly."

"Yeah? No shit, kid," he remarked coolly. Curly was a little slow, but I liked him just fine.

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna get going, Curly. See you later," I called back.

"Come back later tonight, Curtis - show you how much fun it is to jump a Flower Child." He laughed, and I turned away, waving.

'Flower Children' were also called hippies. They didn't bug me too much, and to be honest, I thought they had the right general idea. Some of them, anyway. Lots of 'em were into peace and love -- I can't tell you how many times I've seen a hippy get suspended at school, or shoved around for opposing the war. Lots of 'em were on trips most of the time, and left them sounding real dumb, so people didn't take them too seriously, but I kinda agreed with them.

Most people thought it was cool to be friends with a hippy, or to be one. Usually, most just settled with being acquainted, 'cause if you're a hippy, there's still a lot of people out to get you, like Curly. It's almost like being a greaser.

I remembered Darry saying something about Two-Bit at home resting, and decided to see him. To be honest, I was a little nervous; I didn't know what it'd be like, and if I'd get mad at him or not. He could've died, and if he keeps doing things like this, he will, eventually. I wish Soda and Steve'd come back.

So, I walked a little farther across the main drag, took a turn off one of the backroads, and kept walking. Suddenly I wished I had accepted that cigarette from Curly.

I walked closer to the road, a little off the sidewalk -- going into traffic -- because there were a couple of enclosed spaces right near Two-Bit's, and I wasn't up to defending myself from a jumping today. No one really walks in the middle of the street, because then you gotta pay attention to both ways of the road, which is a pain, and if the cops see you right there in the middle of traffic, and they're in a bad mood, you might get busted.

I was busy thinking about where Sodapop might be right now when I saw a familiar face. _Cathy._

"Cathy!" I said, crossing the road to the sidewalk quickly to greet her, "Hey, how are you?"

"Oh … hello there, Ponyboy," she said lightly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Just visiting a buddy of mine." I shuffled on my feet.

"Really?" she asked politely, "He live around here?"

"Yup. You know a Two-Bit Mathews?" I asked her. She looked confused. "Er - kinda a wisecracker … reddish hair … long sideburns?" _Dammit, shut up now, Ponyboy. _

"Nope," she said, smiling lightly,

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, "So, how 'bout that dance last night?" I laughed to ease the tension.

She smiled sadly. "Well, last night was kind of a bust. I'm a little mad at Bryon for ditching me at the dance."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to," I reassured her. I felt obligated to defend Bryon for her. I guess I didn't want him hating me anymore.

"Yes," she sighed, looking down, finger to her lips, looking thoughtful, " I guess I'll always have to be second best to him, after Mark, but I don't mind. We're not even dating, after all."

It shocked me a little, how outspoken she was. She really just didn't mind saying things that might turn a guy off. I looked at her again. Gosh, she was pretty.

"You're not?" I echoed, "I thought … "

"What?" She smiled coyly, "He's dated a lot before, hasn't he?"

I was silent.

"Well, I better get home. I have work in an hour. It was nice seeing you again, though, Pony."

"Yeah," I said. She turned away, shoulders back, arms swaying slightly at her sides, "You too, Cathy."

I was walking away, realizing that this was a girl I could fall for.

And I already had.

_Burn, burn: the truth, the lies, the news/_

_Burn, burn: the life … that you can choose/_

_Burn, burn: the hate … that gets you through/_

_Burn, burn, for us,_

… _for them: for you. _

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**Author's Note; **_Please _review, guys. I'm going to count up who's been reviewing these chapters, and that's going to lead to special … privileges. I might answer a question you ask, or give you a preview -- it could be anything. But you have to review. Anything. It keeps me motivated; I'm not going to lie. The less I get, the less I give.

-- Okay, I've decided, I LOVE writing Curly.


	5. The Meaning Of Family

**Author's Note: **See? I told y'all I'd update regularly. I should be studying for midterms, actually, but this was all done and ready to go, so I decided it'd be more proactive to get this published. : ) No reward for reviewing this time; I forgot that I never asked y'all if you WANTED to know who makes an appearance. Some people like surprises. I 'unno.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "That Was Then, This Is Now".

Note! This is the same Annie from "What About Me?", but reading that isn't crucial to understand this chapter. : ) I don't own '21 Guns' by Greenday.

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x- Does it take your breath away  
And you feel yourself suffocating? -x

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I walked up to a familiar looking, old white house smeared with dirt, and weeds crawling up from the ground. I saw the familiar lacy, old curtains hanging in the window, and saw Two-Bit's kid sister reading near the window.

I always wondered what these houses would've looked like in their prime. Mine too, I suppose. You never really see a sharp looking house in our neighborhood. I wondered what it must've been like when these houses shone with vitality and newly budding lawns. Maybe it used to be pretty in our neighborhood.

I rang the doorbell, but the door was answered before I could even pull my hand away. An auburn-haired thirteen year old girl stood in the doorway. Annie.

"Hey, Annie, is uh, Two-Bit home?" I asked her. I didn't know Annie Mathews too well. When I met her occasionally, I knew that she was pretty shy and conservative. She was a nice girl, though, and almost two years younger than me. Two-Bit was pretty fond of her, I knew.

"Oh," she exclaimed softly, her dark eyes blinking a couple of times. She bit her lip, and flushed a bit. "I'll go get him," she mumbled before going back inside.

"Two-Bit!" she yelled, and I inwardly chuckled about how loud she was to her family. I cautiously stepped inside, and she shrieked again, "Keith! Come _on, _Two-Bit! P - uh, your friend's here!"

She came back again, brushing her hair back slightly, her face red now. "He'll be down soon," she said softly before going back to her book.

"How you doing, Annie?" I asked politely. She looked up, a little surprised. She was actually a cute kid. She had a few little freckles on her cheeks and nose, big brown eyes, and a heart-shaped face. I wondered what Two-Bit would do when she got old enough to date.

"Oh … I'm fine," she said timidly, "And you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Is Two-Bit alright?"

"Hey, Annie, you and your girlfriend gossiping about your wonderful older brother again?" I turned back and saw Two-Bit came down, clutching his head in one hand, and his other placed over his heart. "_Oh. _It's _better _than a girlfriend. It's _Ponyboy." _

Her eyes widened, and she quickly went back to her book. I wondered what she was reading, and what Two-Bit was doing to that poor girl. "Lay off, Two-Bit. How you feeling?"

"Like shit," he answered promptly, laying down on the couch which was already ladled with junk. "What're you doing here?"

I felt a little shocked. "Darry said you were real sick last night … "

He looked momentarily surprised, but covered it up pretty quickly, "Sicker 'n a dog, of course. It's all okey-dokey, though. Oh, shit … " He jumped up quickly, and fast-walked to the bathroom. I heard him retching, and saw Annie chuckle, smiling into her book.

"See?" he called out, "How many suckers _you _know that has reaction times like that? Almost … almost like I have a seventh _sense _for when I'm going to upchuck, or somethin'."

Annie sighed and called out, "You mean _sixth _sense, Two-Bit."

He came out, still looking tired but raised a hand to his mouth in mock speechlessness. "Annie! You _can _talk!" He resumed his spot on the couch, laying down with his eyes closed.

"Oh, hush up." She simmered, rolling her eyes lightly, turning a page casually.

I laughed. Two-Bit was in a good mood today. "So you're doing pretty well for someone with a hangover." He opened his eyes and smirked.

"I'm an expert at this stuff, Ponyboy. It's like … I can live with pain and still make something good out of it. I'm like Gandhi!" This time Annie laughed out loud, and had to clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle it. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, glad to see I have an audience, today. I thought something else was gonna catch the spotlight in this conversation. Glad to know I still got it."

Annie stopped suddenly. "You mean _have, _Two-Bit." Then she picked up her book, shut it closed. I looked at the title. It said, _'Phantom of the Opera.'_

"But she ain't readin' it in French, so she's cheating," Two-Bit told me, looking disgusted at a book written in English.

"_Oh_," Annie exclaimed a little venomously - maybe she was sick of Two-Bit teasing her, "_Tu parles Français, monsieur?" _

"Huh?" he answered smartly.

"_Oui, oui. Tu prends la classe de Français. Tu n'ecoutes pas pendant la classe, non?" _I suppressed a chuckle at Annie's cheerful smile to Two-Bit trying to figure it out.

"Tu .. Tu …oh, hmm … Say it again?" he asked, batting his eyelashes.

She repeated it. I was pretty lost along with Two-Bit. But I took Spanish, so that was understandable.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, comprehension dawning on his face. "I know why I don't understand. You're speaking in a French _accent. _How do you expect me to understand what you're saying in French if you have an accent?"

"_Tu n'es pas tres intelligent," _she said, shaking her head.

"_Merci!"_ he said, hearing the 'intelligent' part. She laughed, he looked confused, and I kinda understood why Two-Bit got along with his sister so well.

~/~

Later, and I found myself prowling around town with Curly Shepard. Of course, I didn't tell Darry that; just said I was hanging out with friends. I think he understood that I needed a break. I also think he was starting to trust me more, I thought guiltily.

"So, Curtis, where to first?" Curly asked, shoulders hunched, as we walked with two other guys from his brother's gang.

"I 'unno. What were y'all planning?"

"Not much," Curly replied, gazing across the street, "Dan here got dumped recently after his girl realized she could do better 'n his pizza face, so we gotta take his sorry ass too." Dan, I guess, growled at Curly, and a fight would've happened, had the other guy not given him a sharp glance. Curly grinned triumphantly - I guess having Tim as your older brother had its advantages.

We went from place to place - just roaming a bit. I had to be in by ten tonight, but if things got a little too dull, I'd call in, skimming an hour off of curfew - Darry had a reputation as being strict; they'd believe me.

Finally, something was bound to happen. Near nine o'clock, right outside the local bowling alley, a kid came out, and right away, you could see he was a hippy.

"Check the little flower child, out," Dan hissed to Curly, "No oafs or junkies out to help him, now, eh?"

"Hey, check this out, Pony," Curly beckoned to me, "See him? This kid's a real pansy - don't even fight back or none. Seen him cry like a baby, too, hit him enough. Let's go."

I could feel my eyes widen - I didn't want to beat up the kid. I was instantly reminded of Johnny; how awful he looked. Had he to cried when the Socs pounded on him? Did they laugh about it, afterwards?

I got sick to my stomach when I realized that the real reason why Ididn't want to jump the kid, was in case any of his friends held a vendetta against us for beating him up. I didn't want any Dallas Winstons looking out for revenge. I followed Curly.

"Hey, there, kid. Groovy hair. Steal it from your sister?" Curly came sauntering up to the kid, leering at him.

"Do you know my sister, Curly?" the kid asked curiously, not a trace of sarcasm or malice in his voice. Wow. I don't reckon I was ever that innocent; the kid had this long dark hair, and these eyes … gray, and quiet - solemn, mediating eyes, but completely trusting, and bright with that childlike wonder.

"_Do you know my sister, Curly?" _Curly mimicked wickedly, "Yeah, kid, I sure know your sister, alright. Tight little ass like hers?" He laughed, and I just looked down. "I ain't one much for fucking hippies, but your sister was _special." _The others laughed, while I tried out a small chuckle, and the kid looked a little wounded.

"Cathy wouldn't like you, I'm sure, Curly."

"Cathy?" I asked him before I could help myself. He turned his head slowly to me, eyes back to being that peaceful, curious look and I felt my face flush, but continued on, "Cathy Carlson? Christ, I knew you looked familiar!"

"You know her, Curtis?" Curly asked me, smirking. He pushed the kid, so he stumbled over, "How is she? She a fox?"

"A fox," echoed the kid, "She's very pretty."

"Is she, Curtis?" Curly smirked.

Curly wasn't gonna let up on the kid, I knew that much. "Yeah, Curly, she's good-looking. Leave him alone. Kid looks scared enough to wet himself."

His eyes flared angrily, and I could tell he wasn't used to people standing up to him - except if they were doing it to jump him, that is, "What?"

"You heard me," I told him, "The kid ain't worth gettin' jailed over - he's just some hippy. Let's cut out, 'fore anyone comes 'round."

"You're such a candy-ass, Curtis," Curly growled. He looked pretty hacked off. "Whatever. I'm leaving - come on, y'all."

And Curly stalked off, not even looking back.

"Thank you, Curtis," the kid said respectfully, "Curly doesn't like me very much."

"Yeah, well, you better beat it 'fore he changes his mind 'bout beating you up."

He looked at me, stating gravelly, "He will. He always changes his mind. My friends usually help me, though."

"Oh, well, make sure you walk with 'em, next time - not safe for … " I cut off.

"People like us. Yes, I guess you're right, Curtis." He nodded sagely.

'_Golly he reminds me of Cathy,' _I thought wonderingly - that same blunt, knowing tone; except while Cathy was bold and focused, this kid was a dreamer. Maybe if I'd been younger, we would've been friends. But I didn't feel as close to him as I would've at fourteen - I guess I'd stopped dreaming as much, and it made me a little sad.

"Right," I told him. What a weird kid. Well, maybe he'd tell Cathy, and that'd make me look good, "It's Ponyboy, by the way."

"Ponyboy," he murmured, a musical sigh in his voice, "Like the folk song?"

I could feel my eyebrows disappear under my bangs, and felt that as long as I lived, I'd never meet another kid like this. Sure, I always liked my name, but I didn't know there was any song, "Yeah, kid, like the song." Just to appease him.

He smiled suddenly, and I could've kicked myself, not seeing Cathy in him - that smile, like hers, was brighter 'n the sun. "That's great. I'm naming my children after songs, too." He nodded, and without so much as a 'good-bye', he turned on his heel, and walked away, humming some light, bouncy tune.

I shook my head, wondering where the world was headed, and started home.

"_It's not safe … for people like us." _

* * *

Yeah? No? Review anyway.

**Concerning the line, **'**Groovy hair, kid - steal it from your sister?' **I don't think I own that one - it sounds too clever to have come from my head. I just can't remember where it came from. Anywho, if anyone recognized it from anywhere, then just know it's not mine.

-**Corrections? **I'm not entirely sure if languages were required in the 60's curriculum for public schoolings - I have a feeling they were, because my parents both lived through the 60's and took languages, but if anyone knows that I'm wrong, please say so.

FACT: Pony boy is actually a folk song! And Bruce Springsteen sang a cover for it!

**IMPORTANT: **Okay, so by now, you guys will have realized (or I hope you've realized) that a lot this story has Ponyboy running into TwT characters IN EVERY SCENE - would this happen naturally? Ponyboy seeing these guys whenver he turns around? Duh, of course not. But I realized nobody would really like Ponyboy and a ton of OC characters running around. Do you see how there's a lot of time lapses in between 'a day passed' 'a few hours later'? I'm trying to focus on the parts that DO just concern canon characters. I just wanted to clear that up, without you guys thinking I'm making Tulsa the size of a a farm town, where people run into each other all the time. It's not like that, honest.

Happy January 10th! Review, critique, flame. Do what you must, and do it well.


	6. Who I'm S'posed to Be

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - **

Haha. Okaaay. _This_ is why you don't make promises for "an update a week." * nervous laugh *

**DISCLAIMER - **

I really own nothing. Hey, how cool would it be if S.E. Hinton made an FF account, and just wrote, "Yeah, I own them - what's it to you?" That would be epic. : ) I don't own "Life For Rent" by Dido, either.

* * *

x- Well I deserve nothing more than I get,  
'cause nothing I have is truly mine -x

* * *

I was just laying down on my bed, and even though Darry was right down the hall, I suddenly had such a fierce longing for my second oldest brother, that it was just about killing me.

'_Gosh, Soda, you'd know what to do. So, there's this girl, and I think I could be falling for her. Hard. She's beautiful … elegant, and yet real down to earth. She's so blunt and honest, but I like that about her. Her brother's a little weird, but is it odd to think that he's like I used to be? Which means that she's like me? Maybe that's why I like her. Soda, _what _do I do?' _

And I know that he'd tell me to pull the old 'Curtis Charm' on her, and I wondered for the first time, if maybe I _had _gotten some of the charm. I mean, Angela was willing to have some guy beat me up because I didn't go with her, and Cathy hadn't shut me out completely. I sure didn't mean for it to get to my head, or anything, but it was a nice thought.

I could feel a lump in my throat as big as a golf ball as I left my room, and picked up the phone, tremblin' like a little kid. '_Hurry up; you don't want to be talking with Darry coming in all of a sudden, do you?' _

Okay. Alright. I quickly tapped in her number from the phone book, deliberately messing up the first two times, and then I did it a third, holding it to my ear.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello!" rang a loud, cheerful voice, "I'm Laura. Is this the dog man? Are you bringing me a dog?" she demanded. She couldn't have been more than four, maybe five.

"Er - no. This is … uh, Ponyboy Curtis. Is Cathy … there? Does she even live here?"

"Cathy! I'm not _Cathy. _My name is_ Laura. _Cathy doesn't even want a dog! Why are you giving her the dog - "

Suddenly the girl was cut off, and I could hear her wailing, as a voice answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Uh … Cathy?"

"No, this is her mother. Who is this, may I ask?"

"Oh! It's Ponyboy Curtis, ma'am. I'm from Cathy's school. Could I talk to her, please?"

"I suppose. _Cathy! _What do you need her for?"

I gulped, "Well, ma'am, I was just wondering … " _Damn. _

"Mama! Give me the phone, please. Hello?"

Cathy.

"Hey, uh … this is Ponyboy Curtis … from Friday night last week?"

Pause.

"I saw you on Saturday when I was in the neighborhood?"

"Yes, I know. I was just waiting for you to continue," she informed me.

"Oh. Well, I was, uh … wondering ... " I froze, my throat closing up. I couldn't have said anything if my life depended on it. And then suddenly, coming out all garbled, I said,"How'syourlittlebrother?" _What?_

"My ... which one?" she asked, a hint of suspicion latched onto her tone now.

"Er - um," I mumbled. What was his name? I never asked! What do I say, '_The one that looks like the hippy?' _"Nevermind. It's not important."

"No ... " she put in quickly, "I'm sorry. That was rude. Are you talking about M&M?"

"...What?"

I could hear her laugh on the other side of the phone, "My little brother. He's thirteen? Long dark hair? Gray eyes?"

I didn't speak. Maybe?

"Peace sign around his neck? Kinda ... oh, I don't know ... innocent lookin'?"

"I know what you were talking about," I told her, wondering where I got this nerve, "I was just waiting for you to continue." I wasn't sure how much sense that actually made, but she laughed.

"Oh, fine, then. Yeah." She paused. "Did you help him from someone beating him up?"

"What?" I asked, alarmed. How had she figured that out? Did he tell her ... Did he tell her _I _was with the group "beating him up"? We never touched him, but still ... "Uh, well, yeah."

"My hero," she said sarcastically. Then laughed. "I'm sorry again. I feel like that's not my place to say. Just keep that from your girlfriend, okay Ponyboy?"

"G-girlfriend?" I echoed, "Uh ... nope. Don't got one of those currently," I said smoothly, hoping to sound casual.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll find a nice girl somewhere. I'm sure of it." There wasn't any suggestion in her tone. Just a polite, friendliness. A friendliness that I hadn't seen before, but still liked none the less.

"Yeah, I guess," I told her, "Hey, you wanna go out this Friday?" _Phew. _

"This Friday," she repeated slowly, as if trying the words on her tongue. She sighed. "I'm. sorry, Ponyboy. I'm busy."

"Oh, that's fine," I told her, trying to sound nonchalant, "No problem. See you … in school, I guess?"

"Yes … alright."

_Click._

After I hung up, I went over the conversation in my head again. I realized I had answered her questions with as few words as possible, and then I felt really dumb. I sighed, walking back to my room. Darry came by a minute later,

"Hey, who was that on the phone?"

"Just a friend from school ... " I wondered what Cathy'd do if she knew I'd called her my friend.

"Oh. Anything interesting?"

"No," I told him, "Not really."

I took out a book, and put it up to my face to read.

Darry took that as his cue to leave, and I watched from the corner of my eye as his figure slowly retreated from the door frame.

Not much happened at school for the next couple of days - I usually had a good time at school. I had quite a few friends, and not all of them were greasers.

A few of the Socs would spare a glance, once in a while, and I'd sometimes find myself chatting with one - the fiasco last year seemed to just fade, like everything else in this town did. And funnily enough, it was suddenly OK for a Soc and a greaser to be friends.

When I'd see Two-Bit around sometimes, it used to seem like he was _ignoring_me. Every time we'd pass in the halls, I'd feel a little hurt and mad, but I wouldn't ever tell him that. When he wanted to act normal again, then me and Darry would be there for him. Wasn't our fault he was acting so strange.

Today, however, I was passing him down the hall right after Math - like we always do - and he surprised me. He grinned a little, and said, "Hey, Pony."

I was a little shocked, and I think I might've nodded, or smiled too. But I was wondering what had caught up with him _finally. _My day seemed a little better after that.

Later on, I had just finished chatting with one of my track friends, when Terry comes up to me. "Hear what happened? Mark got caught stealing the principal's car!"

"What?" I asked, feeling my jaw go slack, "You're out of it, man. Mark … " _Would totally, without a doubt, do something like this_?, " … really?"

He nodded, looking more eager 'n anything, "Funny as hell, man. He had the old man laughing about it too by the end, though."

"Yeah … " I said slowly, "That's Mark."

"So, you wanna come out to the Ribbon this week, Curtis? Could go by the Drive-In, hunt some action," Terry told me.

"Yeah, sure, Terry," I told him.

I caught the local bit of news goin' round - some guy got shot at a bar, a hippy got put away in one of them mental rehabs after a bad trip, two kids got suspended for rioting outside, but the thing that surprised me most was this: Angela Shepard got married.

I didn't hear a lot, but the _rumors_ were spreadin' like wildfire. It'd make sense for a girl like Angela to talk about things, even when it's not in her favor. People said they heard her growling about her "good-for-nothing" husband, and how he better shape up when the baby comes.

It reminded me of Soda, and I wondered if that's what it would've been like if he'd married Sandy, anyway. Would they get sick of each other? I think of Angela's sassy, sour scowl, and the dumb hood she married. I realized that would never happen to Soda, and that the girl that marries him sure is lucky.

I turned 'round, practically late for Spanish, and felt the distant, aching pain again, as if I was forgetting something, but couldn't remember what it was.

Something real odd happened last night, and I'm not sure what it was about, to tell you the truth. I came home around six thirty, like I always did during school days, but Darry was waiting up for me at the kitchen table, 'stead of taking a shower like he usually did when I got home.

"Hey, Pony," he said casually, looking over the mail. "School okay, kid?" He was smiling that small grin of his, and I felt like I had missed something.

"It was fine, Darry," I told him, going to the fridge to get out some milk. "I got a Chemistry test back."

"Oh, yeah? What'd you get?" He seemed more interested now, looking at me, waiting for the answer.

"B+," I mumbled, hoping he wasn't too mad.

He raised his eyebrows, "Hey, really? That's great, Pone."

I had poured my milk by now, and was sipping it, planning my next move. "Okay … I give; what do you want?" I hadn't meant it to come out sounding snappy or demanding, but I have a feeling it did anyway. I could tell by the way Darry's face kinda loosened up, looking tired again.

"Pony," he started in a warning tone, and I sighed. He frowned now, "Look, I'm trying to talk to you, alright?"

"Okay!" I said defensively, "What _is _it?"

He pursed his lips, looking like he was seriously thinking about something. He tapped his fingers on the table, and finally sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll just come right out with it. What have you … been up to, lately?"

"Huh?" I was taken off guard, "Nothing! I mean, well," I stammered a bit, "What do you mean by _that_?"

He blinked, looking patient, "I just know about what's been going on lately with … kids these days, and I want to make sure - "

"Oh, lord," I mumbled, "I ain't doing anything like that, Dare. Honest!" I was being pretty defensive about the whole thing, and looking back, maybe I was _too_defensive. That probably didn't ease Darry none.

"Okay," he said calmly, putting his hands up to ease me down, "I was just making sure; don't get so riled up, Ponyboy."

"I'm not!" I snapped, "It's _you _who's not trusting me about this. God … how dumb do you think I'd be?" Drugs. I knew he was talking about drugs. I'd seen a lot of kids get carted off - to rehab and the cooler - for getting into messes like that.

"I trust you." He didn't sound too sure anymore, though, and he deepened his frown, "You'd tell me if anything like this happened with your friends though, right?"

"Jesus," I muttered, feeling like a little kid, "Yeah, Dare. I promise I would."

"Okay … " he said, looking cautious, "It's just … Ponyboy, you got a good future ahead of you kid. Talked to your coach after I picked you up last Wednesday; he said the scouts'll be coming in next year to see you. I just hope you know what you want to do with your life, buddy."

I bit my lip, feeling sick. What would Darry say if I _didn't _want this after all? He'd say I was nuts; he'd get mad. And I do want to get out of here. I do. I'm just real confused sometimes. And scared, too. I know how to get to college, but after that? What do _I, _Ponyboy Curtis, want to do with my life?

"I know, Dare," I whispered.

He nodded, and I felt farther from him than ever, "Okay. How about dinner, now? I'm starved."

And he went to go get it. I told him I'd do the dishes afterwards, and I did.

_

* * *

_

TNS - And … my … computer is now fixed. : ) Sorry it took SO long; it's really not my fault. Mkay, my wonderful little lovelies - I think it's weird Pony's so gaga about a girl he kinda just met, but I think there's some sort of plot there - plus, it's incredibly difficult to

^Poor Darry, huh? XD Review, critique, flame … do what you must, and do it well.

Happy February 10th! :D


	7. Brothers

uthor's note:

Bad news: my laptop is beyond repair, and we have to kill it off lest it die an agonizing, slow death.

Good news: I got all my shit off of it before the computer man came to kill it, so expect regular updates again! Maybe.

**disclaimer/acknowledgements:**

-'The Outsiders' = S.E. Hinton.

-"I knew the truth ... maybe one day I'd be brave enough to speak it" comes from the TV adaptation of 'The Outsiders' (1990).

-'Brothers' = Dean Brody

-Big thanks to my beta reader **divine energy. **

**

* * *

**

x- Well I have my heroes. But the one I love the most  
taught me how to hunt and swing a bat.  
And I wrote him every night. I said I miss our pillow fights,

But lately ... I just wonder where you're at. -x

* * *

"Oh, hey - Ponyboy?" Darry appeared in my doorway later that night as I did my homework. "A letter from … Soda came earlier today. I, uh, here." He handed me mine; I guess he already read his.

"Is he okay?" I asked immediately.

"Yeah," he grunted, already leaving, "I think he's fine. Just a little spooked is all."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I opened the letter eagerly, eating up any contact I could get from Sodapop.

_'Ponyboy - _

_Hey kid why'd you stop writing? I miss your letters something awful, Pony. It takes me a while to read 'em - they used to be so long - and I got training from 0400 (that's military talk by the way. I'm learning lots here; 'cluding lots of slang. Lord, you thought the Brumlys talked funny? You got no idea, kid. Too bad it ain't any good back in the World) until I collapse practically. It's real hard work, but I think it's exciting all the same. _

_Darry's real worried about Two-Bit. You seen him lately? I wish me and_ _Steve could be back home with y'all - I almost can't believe what Darry tells me sometimes. How are you doing, kid? Betcha you got all the girls lined up for you now, huh? _

_This guy I've been bunking with - George Nelson; apparently he's got the same name as some gangster from the 30's? You might know what he's talking about - got into this huge fight last night 'round dinner time with the cook. It was real ugly; I can tell everyone's itching to either get outta here to go home quicker, or to just rip some VC's head off. I'm missing you guys a lot though. Don't worry. Lot of us here are all new so I'm not real sure on what 'Nam's like yet. I've seen lots of kids who enlisted themselves, saying they got nothing better to do. Isn't that sad? _

_Okay. I'd write more but I've been at it this for two days now, and I still gotta finish Darry's. Lights are supposed to be out soon, but me and the guys figured out where our supervisor keeps his stash of Playboy and booze; the blackmail's getting a little old, but I reckon I can use it a couple more times before he realizes he could get into much deeper shit with the captain than just stashing 'illegals' around him cabin. _

_I know you're busy, Pone, but could you try and write? It sure is sad seeing mail calls and no mail for Sodapop. Love you, kid, and tell Two-Bit hi._

_-Sodapop Curtis_

I felt awful all of a sudden. I guess I hadn't realized I hadn't written to Soda in such a long time. I thought of the last time - must've been around mid-October when he first went out. It was mid-November now. Geez, I thought, here I was, always aching for Sodapop, and I hadn't even written to him.

I felt tensed up by his letter though. If Darry hadn't told me about _his_ letter, I wouldn't have known at all about Soda being spooked. He seemed fine to me. Hell, he even seemed a little excited. No matter how much he missed us.

'_Darry's real worried about Two-Bit.'_I wondered where that had come from. I mean, thinking about it, whenever I brought Two-Bit up, Darry tried to push it aside nonchalantly but I guess I hadn't noticed. Why would Darry be worried? I felt like asking Soda what he meant by it, but tried to think of a way to be subtle, so he thought I knew what was going on.

I laughed at the part about Soda threatening his supervisor with the tattletale, and I felt a little hurt at the "me and the guys" part. How long ago had it been where 'the guys' meant us? The gang? It couldn't have been a year ago - it seems like it never existed. That it was always just me and Darry, and my half-friends at school. It seems like Two-Bit had always just been a 'friend' to me, and Sodapop had been gone forever …

I thought about Sodapop's new friends. Were they good-looking and fun-loving like him? I imagined them getting into all sorts of mischief, and teasing each other about letters from mothers and girlfriends - I wondered if Soda ever talked about us, and what 'the guys' thought. Lord, there was so much I wanted to ask Soda, but I wasn't sure how …

_'Dear Soda,_

_I'm real sorry, Soda. I've just been busy. Did you know that coach keeps us running from three to six every day? Even on Saturdays. I don't like it very much, but Darry thinks it's really good for me, so I guess that's all that matters -'_

No, I sighed. He doesn't want to hear about Darry and me fighting. Again. What could I talk to Soda about? I'd told him about the 'guys' - Mark, Terry, and Greg, but … My thoughts wandered to a pale girl with beautiful dark hair, and eyes like the morning sky - You can't tell Soda about her. But … well, why not? I grinned, and picked up my pencil, when Darry called out,

"Ponyboy. Lights out. You got school in the morning, kiddo."

I suddenly remembered, '_It's have, _not_ got' but _couldn't remember where I'd heard it from. "C'mon, Darry," I wheedled, "Ten more minutes."

"No," he retorted firmly, "It's ten thirty. You need sleep, Ponyboy." Click. Lights off.

I wondered if I could blackmail Darry with something. I chuckled silently, and got ready for bed. I went to sleep, thinking of thick jungles and Sodapop laughing with a new gang. A pretty girl with pale skin and freckles, reading a book casually under a tree. Yeah, that's how it should be, I thought lazily, wondering what Cathy liked to read and - funnily enough - if Dally and Johnny would approve of the girl I chose.

~/~

"Hey, Ponyboy, would it be alright if you were home alone tonight?" Darry asked the next morning as I was getting ready for school.

"Huh?" I glanced up, "Er – yeah sure, I guess."

He flashed a quick, tight grin at me, but it disappeared as soon as he thought I'd looked away. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but there was a part of me that didn't want to know. If it was important, he'd tell me. It's not so important that he'd tell me, so I tried to keep my imagination from running too wild.

"Alright." He paused. "What am I forgetting?"

I shrugged. "Er – keys? Money? Tools?"

He frowned, shaking his head, going over it in his head. "No … that's not it."

"I don't know. Darry, you probably have everything, you just don't know it." I turned away, going back to my room to get dressed.

"Yeah," he said, sighing. "Okay, you're right. Well, I'm going to get going."

He walked around the table, and quickly ruffled my hair before I could squirm away. "Darry!" I scolded, scowling. He looked back, his light blue eyes contrasting against his darker features – his skin, tanned from working all day in the sun, and his dark hair with that stubborn cowlick in the back.

I must've been smiling because he gave me a tired half-grin, happy that I wasn't being serious, and walked out. I went to go to my room, and almost broke my neck as I tripped over something. Letting out a mild curse, I picked up the blasted things that tripped me. It was then that I realized what he'd forgotten. I could feel the grin on my face, and I busted out laughing as I ran to the screen door and called out after my older brother,

"Darry! You forgot your shoes!"

~/~

"I knew the truth … maybe one day I'd be brave enough to speak it." I could feel my face flushing as Margaret Collins handed back my paper to me. "Wow, Ponyboy," she whispered softly. "You really get it, don't you?"

"Uh, get what?" I mumbled, snatching the paper back, and stuffed it into my over-flowing composition book.

She smiled at me, her bright eyes dancing, "All of it. It's just really good, okay? Don't be embarrassed, kid."

I frowned at the 'kid' comment. My mind flicked to Cathy. I wondered how old she was. I wouldn't be surprised if Bryon took out a younger girl – heck, I wasn't any more'n a year younger than him, and Cathy sure looked older. "Thanks, Margaret."

"So, uh … do you want me to read yours?" I echoed the instructions Mrs. Sampson had told us, and I was supposed to read hers.

"Oh, nah," she said nonchalantly, glancing over at a group of her friends, "It's not very good, anyway."

"Okay. That's fine," I said. "I'll just look over it to make it seem like I'm doin' something, okay?" My voice trailed off as the sentence got lamer and lamer.

She nodded to me, her auburn hair bouncing as she did so. She turned to talk to her friends, and I looked down at the paper,

'_School's been in session now for about a month now. Junior year isn't too bad so far. I'm worried about my boyfriend being drafted, but we figure he's safe for now at least. About a month ago, one of my friends came back from boarding school. Her name's Cathy, and she's in my year. She's got about a million younger siblings, and they all drive her insane. We used to be such good friends that I hope we'll be able to pick up from where it was before. She's dating this guy named Bryon Douglas, who's really quite a jerk, and doesn't look at you twice if you ain't nice to look at, but she seems to like him a lot. And I guess he's OK in his own way. His brother's just about the best looking guy I've ever seen, though. I wouldn't mind getting –"_

"Oh, wait!" She came back, and snatched her paper. She looked at me and blushed. "I'm sorry, Ponyboy. I told you it wasn't very good. It's just random gossip. How much did you read?"

I grinned, "What wouldn't you mind doing with Mark? He's a buddy of mine, you know."

She looked around, and back at me. "Hush, now, Pony. I _do _have a boyfriend, after all." She bit her lip. "You two seem like you'd be friends," she said in a knowing tone, her eyebrow cocked.

I tried to cock my eyebrow, "Really? Why?" I actually was curious about the answer to that one, but I had a feeling she thought I was teasing her.

She blushed and giggled, "No, it's – oh, never mind." She flicked her gaze back down to the paper, "Thank goodness. You didn't read that far." She exhaled, relieved.

I laughed nervously, feeling a little embarrassed. "Sorry, Margaret."

The bell rang, and we both automatically stood up. "Quite alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Ponyboy."

I left, feelin' like it wasn't a total bust after all. I could still feel my face reddening – I'm not too shy around girls anymore, but it's not like I have loads of practice, or nothing. I thought about what she'd said about Cathy. '_We used to be such good friends … ' _I didn't know what advantage having Margaret as my English partner would be, but I figured it wouldn't do my any good. '_She seems to really like him.' _

I sighed. _Pull yourself together, Curtis. She's just a girl._

~/~

"Mark!" I called out after school, going over to his beat up car. Mark was laying on the windshield, cigarette dangling from his fingertips, his other hand over his eyes. His gold hair shone in the sunlight, so it was pretty easy to spot him right away.

"Mark." I came closer, and he pulled his hand away. He glanced at me, something stirring behind his golden eyes.

"Hey there, Ponyboy. Why ain't you at track?" He slid himself into a sitting position, patting beside him on the hood of the car, smiling dazedly.

"Not 'till three fifteen. I never change out of my gym shorts since I have it last period anyway." I jumped on the hood. "What's wrong?"

He looked at me, "Oh, it's nothin', man. Don't worry about me." He paused, looking down. "Don't worry," he repeated.

"Er – okay," I said. "Why are you still here? Waiting for something?"

"Yeah," he said cheerfully, "Bryon, if he wants a ride. He said he might want to take Cathy out tonight, so I wanna know if I can have the car or not."

"So, they still going strong?" I asked casually. He looked at me, grinning widely now.

"Aw, don't tell me you like her, too, Curtis!" He punched me in the shoulder playfully. "I'm losing both of my buddies to some broad?"

"Hey, man. Girls don't dig it when you call 'em broads."

"You _do _like her," Mark crowed, and threw his head up, laughing. "You never cared before when I'd call some girl a broad. But it's _Cathy …"_

"Naw, man. It ain't like that," I said, "I never liked it. I've seen plenty of my buddies get slapped for calling their girls broads."

He cocked an eyebrow, still grinning, "Yeah, but your buddies with that lady-killer, Mathews. He don't need to even _talk _to the girls and he gets slapped."

I jumped a little at the mention of Two-Bit. It was still a touchy subject. "Yeah, well bein' friends with Two-Bit makes your 'ppreciate girls a bit more, I guess."

"Well, I wouldn't worry 'bout it none. Bryon's breaking up with her, anyway."

"What?" I asked, shocked. "_Really?"_

He pointed his finger in my face, letting out a cheer, "Gotcha! Ha. Admit it, you candyass. You like her, Curtis."

"Fine, asshole, I like her, alright?" I snapped. And then I frowned. "Don't tell your brother, okay Mark? Be a pal?"

He sighed, and tapped his chin with a finger, "Well …"

I punched him on the shoulder, a little sick with the teasing game, "I gotta get to track. Bye."

"Wait!" He hopped off the car, and we walked together, "Come on, Ponyboy. I'm just teasin', is all. I mean, it'd be funny as hell to see her highness have to _choose _between you two – but I won't do it."

"Promise?" I raised my eyebrows, looking at him dead-on.

"Goddammit, Curtis," he said amused, "What are we in, fifth grade? Yeah, I _promise,_ man. She makes my brother happy. I wouldn't make problems between them. No matter how much I can't stand her. I mean ... you get that, right Curtis? You got brothers of your own." He dropped his smoke, and stubbed it out with his heel.

"Yeah," I told him, a little surprised, "We'd do anything for each other."

He looked up at me, no longer smiling, but with a hard-set look on his face - almost like he was making a life-changing situation, "Yeah," he whispered, "I get that."

"Hey, man," I said slowly, walking up to him. If I didn't leave now, I'd be late for track, but something was bugging me about Mark. I couldn't quite tell what it was, but I knew I could leave him like this, "You okay?"

"Just ... worried is all." He looked away, "Money's tight right now - not sure what to do."

"Oh." I shuffled my feet, feeling awkward all of a sudden, "Look, Mark, there ain't a lot you can do about that."

"Stop it, Ponyboy," Mark snapped, and then he frowned again, "There's gotta be _something_."

"You talk to Bryon about this?" A long silence. I tried again, "Look, Mark, all I know is that if I know there's something's wrong, both my brothers do anything they can to help me. Even..." I swallowed, "Even if it hurts them more 'n it helps me. That's what you do with siblings, I guess."

He met my gaze at that last sentence, "Yeah that makes sense." He shook his head, and grinned again, "Yeah, you're right Curtis. Always the smart one, man." He thumped me on the shoulder walking away. "Alright. I won't tell Bryon _or _Cathy." He winked and started to walk away again, back to his car.

"Tuff enough." I knew he wasn't doing it for me, but it was all the same, really. "And … is she really that bad?"

He spun around, smiling teasingly, "Planning for the future, Curtis?"

I rolled my eyes, "I gotta know if kidnapping her is worth all the trouble man," I said sarcastically. People looked onward. Some people went by giggling.

He shook his head, "Nah, I guess not. She just don't like me. Why should I like her? Hey, wanna ditch track? We could go down to the Ribbon – hunt some action ourselves."

"I got track, Mark. I have to go. I'm goin' with Terry this weekend, though. You coming?"

He shrugged, "Sure. See ya 'round, Pony."

"Yeah, bye."

I nodded, looking at his retreating form. Mark Jennings was the last person I'd expected to have a serious talk with - not that Mark wasn't a good buddy or nothing. But serious? _Mark? _I tried to figure out what it meant - if I should be worried about the sudden mood swing, or happy that he was growing up. I couldn't figure it out, though, and quite honestly, I didn't care much about it.

While I left the school that day, I wasn't even thinking about Mark. I was thinking of Margaret Collins, and if I could learn more about Cathy from her - and what else she might've written on that paper. In a moment where I could've stopped a lot of bad things from happening, I chose not to think about it. And I'll have to live the rest of my life with that - and what happened to Mark and his brother would always feel like it was partially my fault, because I thought ignoring them would make the problems disappear, and my life could go on with its relatively normal state.

I should've known better.

* * *

**author's note:**

I feel like an ass for keeping you guys waiting for so long – however, the laptop is officially dead, so things will go a lot smoother now. =D Ah yes, and I have a beta reader. So if this looks so much better all of a sudden, don't leave me with a review saying 'oh my gosh, look how much you've improved – and all on your own! I knew you'd get better someday!' because that might make me go drown myself in the pouring rain. Seriously, though – thanks to **divine energy **again for uh … putting up with me. * thumbs upsky *


	8. Stepping Up To The Plate

(author's note):

Don't complain about the wait – just read.

(disclaimer/ acknowledgements):

I do not own:

-Without You ~ Breaking Benjamin

-The Outsiders ~ S.E. Hinton

* * *

x- And I can't face the dark … without you. -x

* * *

Later that night at around five thirty, I was at the kitchen table doing my homework when the phone rang,

"Hello?" I answered it.

The voice on the other line sniffled, "D-Darry?"

"What?" I asked a little sharply, confused and a little scared, "Who is this?"

"P-Ponyboy? It's Annie. Y'know, Annie M-Mathews? Have you seen my brother?" Annie's voice kept breaking on the other line, and it was getting hard to hear her.

"Two-Bit? No, why Annie? What's wrong?"

I could hear her wailing now, "He hasn't been home for almost two days!" she shrieked, and I winced. She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Look, I'm sorry. I'll be fine. Darry just said to call if I needed anything." She hiccupped over the line, and I felt my stomach twist as soon as I heard the part about Darry. "And … I – I need my brother." I could hear her sobbing again, and I felt awful – I told you, I hated it when girls cried.

I bit my lip. I could feel myself panicking pretty quickly. I'd just seen Two-Bit … was it yesterday? Two days ago? I felt sick with myself all of a sudden, and I knew suddenly that I'd have to be the one to step up and help out – even _if_ Two-Bit didn't meet me halfway, even _if_ Darry wasn't helping.

"Keep it together, kid," I told Annie. I hoped my voice didn't sound as panicky as I thought it did. "I'm coming over – I'll be there in ten minutes."

I walked out of the kitchen and pulled on my shoes when I realized that Darry had the car.

I ran back to the phone, and quickly dialed. "Mark, are you there? Look man, I need to ask for a favor…"

~/~

"Pony? Hey, man – you look like you're gonna heave. Out the window, if you will. This car's a gift from a friend."

I flicked my gaze to Mark, who'd briefly taken his eyes off the road to grin at me. I drummed my fingers on the dashboard, and felt the blind panic turn sour – into some kind of defensive anger. "I ain't gonna puke. And keep your eyes on the damn road!"

He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at me – it reminded me of Sodapop suddenly, and I felt even worse. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. I turn here?"

"Mmm," I mumbled. "Hey, where'd you _really _get this car?"

His golden eyes never left the road. He had a slow, sideways grin on his face, "I told ya – a buddy of mine."

"Who gives their friend a _car?_" I muttered. He sighed.

"Hey, how come this guy lives so far away anyway Curtis?"

"Just does." It was a weird thought, when I did stop to think about it. Two-Bit still lived only ten minutes away by car, but I tried to remember how he got to be such good buddies with us. I mean, it wasn't like he had the excuse of living practically next door like Steve or Johnny did.

"Here we are, sir. Do I get a tip for bein' so polite and all?" He grinned goofily at me, holding out his hand, flexing his fingers.

I laughed. "Thanks, Mark. Means a lot." And it did – I wasn't sure right then what he'd been talking about earlier, but right then what I'd needed was a friend who didn't mind driving me around the neighborhood at six o'clock at night on a weekday, and didn't ask any questions – which he'd done.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved it away. "Hey, Bryon asked me down to the Ribbon this weekend with Cathy." He mimed vomiting and then laughed. "I said I'd go; maybe I'll see you 'round if I don't see you in school later, alright?"

"Okay." I nodded, practically running out of the car – I guess I was more worried about Annie than I thought I was. "Bye!"

He flashed me a V sign with his fingers which I remembered had to do with peace or something, and drove away.

I ran up to the doorstep, hopping up the steps and rang the doorbell. "Annie – it's Ponyboy. You in there?"

I heard a tumble coming from behind the door and it swung upon, showing a red-eyed thirteen year old. Annie.

"Ponyboy," she said quickly, "Have you seen him? He's not … ?"

I shook my head, feeling my bangs flick over my eyes. I pushed them back, annoyed. "No, I haven't, Annie. I'm sorry." She nodded, moving away and I walked inside with her. "I'll stay here until he comes, alright? Where's your mom?"

Her brow furrowed, as if confused, and she said slowly in a cautious tone, "Working … ?"

I shrugged. "Late shift?" I glanced at her sympathetically. She bit her lip, nodding.

"I … You don't have to be here, Ponyboy. I mean, I was just worried." She sniffed a bit, composing herself again, "It's late, and it's a school night 'n all. I ... " She looked down again, "I just wanted to know if you'd _seen _him."

"Oh." I sat down on the couch, and she sat down next to me. "I saw him at school yesterday – he hasn't been home since then?"

She blinked back tears, "_No." _She wiped them away quickly and I still felt bad.

"Don't cry kid. Here, you need a tissue or somethin'?" She shook her head, still sobbing – unable to speak.

I got up to go get her a glass of water. I wasn't sure what it'd do for her or if I wanted to just _do _something and feel useful. But I remembered something. When I was little – maybe ten or eleven – my dog died. It had been a few years since we'd found this old curd dog and brought him home. Dad loved that dog. Mom didn't.

I remember she'd make such a fuss when it'd go in the house, or whined at night, but I could tell she was less lonely during the day with it around. Anyway, he just died one day – he wasn't s'posed to live that long anyway. Street dogs weren't ever healthy. – and Sodapop had started sobbing after Dad sat us down and told us. I think I was still too young to understand but I started crying too. Mom had just stroked my hair, and got me some water. This reminded me a little of that.

I was getting a glass from the cupboard – I'd been to the Mathews enough to know where the cups were; second shelf on the top left – and went to the faucet to fill it up. It was then that I noticed something was wrong. _Really _wrong.

Pills, first of all. There were about three little containers of them lying out there on the cabinet, two of 'em open and one of 'em not even full. I picked up the empty one, scanning for a name and only saw a surname 'MATHEWS' on the label. If that wasn't enough to spook me, I noticed the creased papers on top of the counter, yellowed with coffee stains and crinkled from – what it looked like – being balled up and thrown away. I skimmed the paper on top and felt my heart stop at what I'd read. I sped it out of there as soon as possible, not even noticing the water overflowing the glass as I picked it up out of the sink.

Heart pumping like mad, I took the glass back to Annie in the living room, my mind weighted down by the memory of the pills, papers, the unkempt kitchen, and the sobbing girl on the couch – alone, in a house full of ghosts.

I must've fallen asleep on the couch, because I don't remember much after that except Annie taking the water gratefully from me and giving me an awkward hug. When I woke up, I thought it must've only been twenty minutes or so but instead the gaudy clock in the living room told me it was 7:21. It was actually pretty nice on the couch, I remember thinking hazily, and wondered how Two-Bit could sleep on _our _mess of a couch if his was so much nicer.

I was warm too and I realized Annie'd fallen asleep next to me. Or well … _on _me, I guess. I saw a mess of streaky auburn hair laying on my shoulder and figured she must've just dozed off after I had. I had the sudden thought of replacing Annie with Cathy. I wondered vaguely if I'd _ever _have a girl that wasn't my friend's baby sister fall asleep on me. Because that's what it was with Annie – completely innocent. I found it funny and depressing at the same time.

But it wasn't any of that that had woke me up, and that little bit of time between sleeping and full consciousness was cut off by the one person who _didn't _think it was funny, depressing, or innocent in even the slightest degree.

"Ponyboy Curtis! What the _hell_ is going on here?"

* * *

(author's note):

Well, there you have it folks – hey, I'm getting better aren't I? I promise, updates from now on are going to be easier. I have two pages of single spaced notes on what goes next all in chronological order (readers: Didn't you ALWAYS have a plan? TNS: … ).

Shower **divine** **energy** with love y'all – that girl's amazing; she got this done as soon as I gave it to her practically.

Cool beans. So to all my readers out there – old or new, doesn't matter –** if you leave a review** for this chapter only (seriously. A WORD.) **I'll tell you who the mystery speaker is**. ;) Think about it – I've gotten seven chapters done in half a year. Who KNOWS when I'll update again! xD

To y'all who want it to be a surprise, but review anyway, just tell me in the review, "I don't want to know who found them together" and I won't tell you.

Happy April 18th, my readers. Review, flame, critique – do what you must, and do it well.


	9. Huntin' For Some Action

**(author's note):**

Y'all got to admit … I'm getting MUCH better. Or, well… so far I'm keeping it up. Yeah. Sure. We'll just go with that.

Ooo. I changed the summary - yeah, it's pretty cheap. =/ But I SWEAR, I have a plan! Kinda.

Oh! And my new one-shot **"Mr. Randle"** is posted now. Yes, I HAD to do something with Steve. God.

(**disclaimer/acknowledgments):**

~The Outsiders – HINTON.

~God Must Hate Me – Simple Plan.

~Big mushy hug to my beta-reader who beta'd this (I just wanted to write out the word "beta'd" – isn't that a cool word?): **divine energy. **

**

* * *

**

x- God must hate me;  
he cursed me for eternity.  
God must hate me;  
Maybe you should pray for me? -x

* * *

My first reaction wasn't fear, panic, or even embarrassment. To be honest, I was more _annoyed_ that I had been woken up then afraid of what would happen to me due to the fact that I'd been caught sleeping over at some girl's house … with said girl sleeping right next to me.

But _that_ reaction was nowhere near as off as what I had said next.

"Golly Darry, be _quiet. _You're gonna wake her up."

I realized how bad that sounded only until after they words had left my mouth. Darry's jaw dropped, and he looked on the borderline of a charging bull to nuclear explosion.

"Be _quiet? _I … " He seemed so furious, he was at loss for words. "I catch you sleeping there with some _girl _after being out of the house for _hours_, and all you can say is that I shouldn't wake her up?" he yelled, coming over to me, and grabbing me up by the collar. Annie chose _that _time to wake up.

"Whu – huh? Whuz goin' on?" she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her head now on the couch. "Two-Bit?" She looked up to see Darry . Now I was panicking.

"Duh .. Dar … I - " I couldn't seem to form words, now completely petrified with my older brother. I remembered the last time I was out more than an hour past curfew, and something latched onto my imagination that it was going to happen all over again.

"What?" he growled, " I come home and find an empty house, and wonder where in hell you are – so tell me _what the heck you're doing over here." _

I couldn't remember the last time I saw him this mad. "Darry, she called me to say she didn't want to be alone." That didn't sound right. "I – I mean, she said her brother wasn't home and she was –" Oh, lord. Way to pick 'em, Curtis. I started over completely.

"Two-Bit's been gone for two days – she was freaking out over the phone! I came over to see if she was alright and we fell asleep, I'm sorry Darry!" I yelled, speaking very quickly except when I stumbled over certain words.

He still looked angry, but cooled down some. "Two-Bit's gone?"

Annie piped up, "I'm so sorry, Darry – I'm really sorry." She looked about ready to cry again, "I just wish he'd stop _doing _this stuff … "

Darry's gaze softened a bit as he looked towards Annie. He put me down, and told her in a much more gentle tone, "Don't worry about it, kid – if there's anyone I know who can take care of himself, it's Two-Bit. He'll come home."

He turned to me, "Sorry, Pony. I was just worried." There was a glint in his eye that told me this wasn't over – that the apology was for Annie's benefit and that I'd better play along.

"Oh, it's alright Darry!" I said brightly, hoping to sound over-dramatic. I made a big show of giving him a hug, and smiled up at him – he was still a lot taller than me.

He gave a slightly-amused glare as he cocked one eyebrow, "Good." He wiggled out of my embrace and walked to the door. "Annie, honey, you still want us to stick around to wait for Two-Bit?"

A red blush had crept along her cheeks and she shook her head quickly, "No. Thank you very much, Darry," she mumbled.

He nodded, his dark bangs hanging into his eyes, "Well, alright. Ponyboy, you better come over here in the next five seconds or I'm dragging you home by a rope." And he left. That's Darry – always dramatic.

"Hey, you alright now, Anne?" I nodded to her, already walking to the door. She had a look on her face I couldn't quite place and she sighed.

"I'm alright – thanks again, Ponyboy."

I left, jogging up to the truck and jerking the door open. "We'll talk more when we get home," Darry said stonily, looking at the road. I shrugged, feeling dread for what was going to come.

I was still sleepy, and watched as we pulled away from the Mathews house. I saw Annie watching us from the window, crossing her arms over her chest and then I realized what the look on her face showed, and why it bothered me so much.

It was the same look Johnny always had on his face – the quiet look of defeat.

The drive home was silent at first.

"I'm sorry, Darry."

The glare of the orange lit streetlights passed over the car like a sweep of a hand – I could see his hard-set face in the light, and he looked real tired and sad all of a sudden – I knew he wanted to say something right then, and I wished he'd say it.

"What?" I asked. He frowned, glancing at me briefly. "What are you going to say?"

"Nothin'."

"No, really. Go ahead, say it. 'M all ears – I'm like a psychiatrist 'cept I'm a helluva lot cheaper." I grinned at him, hoping to lighten his mood before getting home. He stopped the car slowly at a light.

"Ponyboy … " He looked slightly distressed as he said it and looked right at me, "Back at the house … when you gave me that hug. You just … I mean, you – "

"I'm sorry, Darry," I echoed. "I thought it'd cheer you up some."

He looked somber at the thought, "That's exactly it. When you did that like you did … You reminded me of him; it was just something he might've done. It's dumb, I'm sorry. Never mind." He turned back to the road, continuing the drive home.

It felt like the air had been knocked out of me for about a minute. It was just _mentioning_ Sodapop that had overwhelmed me, and he wasn't even gone yet. He hadn't even left the country. Hadn't even left the time zone, and his absence still had that affect on me. Just like it did on Darry.

What scared me more than anything was what would happen in the future? If I couldn't talk about him now, how would I talk about him when he was in Vietnam? He was already a ghost to me. His presence was omnipresent and haunting, but just as real as Darry and me and this car and all of Tulsa was. What would he become if he _never_ came back? I couldn't imagine it'd get _worse_ than it was now and I didn't want to be proven wrong.

"I'm sorry, Darry," I whispered under my breath – not sure what I was apologizing for. If it was for causing him so much trouble, for not understanding him, for not caring what he thought of Soda's absence. Or maybe I was sorry for trying to replace someone he loved more than anyone else in the world. I was sorry for forgetting my place, and for not leaving room for Sodapop to come back to. Like he was already dead.

~/~

I think I fell asleep again on the way home – all I remember is feeling all tight in the chest area and resting my head on the window. I couldn't remember what I had dreamt about, but when Darry was shaking me awake to get inside the house, I suddenly realized something important that I hadn't remembered before.

He was turning off the car, fiddling with his keys as he sauntered up the stairs. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face as the pieces fit together like a puzzle and splattered right down on me like a water balloon. I felt angry and bewilderedly hurt, and ran up to him just as he was opening the door.

"You knew," I hissed, grinding my teeth together. "Darry, you've known all along what's wrong with Two-Bit, didn't you?"

He froze, his hand on the doorknob. We waited for what seemed like a century, and then he opened the door and slowly walked inside.

"Come back here!" I screamed after him. "Why didn't you tell me, huh Darry? When Annie called, she talked about how she 'could call if she needed anything .. _Darry _said.' _You've _been gone these nights too – that trip to the hospital. _Everything. _What the hell is going _on_?" I was still screaming, but he still had that cool, collected look on his face.

"Ponyboy, listen. You don't – "

"SHUT UP!" I yelled at him. "I deserve to know every bit as much as you do – and instead I have to be the one driven to the point of going out at six o'clock at night to comfort a hysterical kid before I know … before I even know _shit –"_

"Pone, I'm real sorry kid. You're right – "

"Both of you have been hidin' this behind my back," I growled, feeling my face heat up. I wondered if I'd start crying soon, "and _I'm _the one having to deal with losing everybody. It ain't fair and I hate it – and I hate you and him for not telling me. I'm not a kid." I tacked that last part on as a side-thought, and thought it sounded whiny and childish, but I didn't care too much at the moment.

Because right then and there did I realize all the clues pointing to _Darry _knowing what was wrong with Two-Bit – that talk about drugs, and how they'd ruin my life, all the late night excursions he took; he knew from the start. Both of them had kept this behind my back, like they thought I couldn't handle it or something. And that was when I let the barrier fall down, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking it:

Soda wouldn't have treated me like a kid.

And then I guess that was my breaking point, because before I knew it I was wiping at my eyes, furious at letting Darry make me cry – mad at _myself _for crying in front of Darry. I looked at him, and he had this pained look on his face.

"Pony, I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to touch my shoulder. I jerked away, still angry. "Ponyboy."

I tried calming myself down, but it wasn't too easy – once I had started bringing Sodapop into this, it was hard getting him out. I was so scared all of a sudden – scared for what was going to come, and how I couldn't stop it and how if anything happened, the last time I saw my brother would be when he was leaving for boot camp. I thought all of this and I couldn't stand having all that happening so quickly, before it even actually _happened. _

"Stop," I mumbled, sniffling. "Darry, he's my friend _too. _Why keep me out of it, huh Darry? The gang's already gone; do I gotta just deal with it, find new friends and move on?" It wasn't coming out the way I wanted it to – I wanted to tell Darry more about what I meant, but I didn't think he'd understand.

"Of course not," Darry said gruffly, looking a little defensive. "Two-Bit just came out and told me; I didn't think it'd be er – well, _right _to tell you until he wanted to, I guess." He paused. "How much do you, uh … know, anyway? Annie tell you?"

Shocked, I asked, "_Annie _knows 'bout this?" It was bad enough never having your brother home – but _knowing_ that he was doing drugs? I felt real bad all of a sudden – worse than before, and I wished we could've stayed there or something.

His face crumpled, and he had such a look of pity on his face when he said, "Yeah, poor kid. She's real tough, y'know? Don't know too many girls who can handle all that and still be, well … er – "

"Like Annie," I finished dully, still running the thoughts through my head, "Nice. Whole." I thought of the poem I read with Johnny – I wasn't sure how innocent Annie _really_ was, but she sure seemed like it to me; maybe it was me. Maybe _I_ wasn't too gold anymore. Maybe I'd lost it along the way.

I exhaled, "All I saw was the pills on the counter – and all them bills; why's he going to the hospital so much, Dare? You better tell me, Darry – I want to know."

His eyes sparked up a bit and I thought he was either going to yell or tell me something important. Instead he just rubbed his temples, sighed and looked at the clock. "It's late. Hey, did you eat dinner, Pony? I can't remember feeding you or not. Damn … "

"I'm not that hungry_._ Darry – you're telling me every – "

"I think you need to talk to Two-Bit, Ponyboy," he said flatly. "Let's go to bed, alright?"

"Talk to …? What? Darry – I can't believe you're – " I got cut off by him slamming his hand on the table, looking down at me angrily.

"You want to know so bad what's wrong with your friend – well then prove it. _Ask _him. 'Cause you sure ain't respectin' his business by talking around his back, Ponyboy. I said _go to bed. _Savvy?"

I bit my lip, but knew he was right. "Yeah, I get it. 'Night." And then I walked away, down the hall, into my room. It was the first time in a while I consciously thought that this was _my _room now – not Soda's and mine, just me. I crawled into bed, wishing wildly for my older brother, feeling the pain in my chest explode like a firework – building up slowly and splitting off into many different parts, because that's how I felt at the moment. In pieces.

~/~

The next day was Friday, which was good for a number of reasons. I tried looking forward to the weekend and hanging out with the guys at the Ribbon, which was always fun. I tried not to think too much about what Mark had said about him going with Bryon and Cathy, but I found myself smiling at that even more than hanging out with guys I already knew. 'Sides, I tried reasoning with myself, she's going to be with _Bryon _the entire night, getting it on with _Bryon, _not you, Ponyboy.

So I was walking in the hallway after fifth, walking down to my locker before heading out for lunch break. These days, I usually try and find Greg and Terry – and then we roam around the school for a while, trying to hunt for Mark. Sometimes he's with Bryon which I don't like too much, 'specially since whenever I say anything to Bryon he just snorts at, so I keep my mouth shut around him.

I was at my locker, doing the combination, when Margaret – my English partner and locker neighbor – came by too.

"Hey, Ponyboy," she said sweetly, smiling at me brightly. I didn't know Margaret too well out of class, but she seemed alright to me. She was always saying 'hello' to me around places – I liked her just fine; she wasn't stuck up like some of the girls around here.

"Hey," I greeted, opening my locker, catching a book that was just about to fall out. "Whoa. That was close," I mumbled to myself.

Her gaze flicked to me, and she giggled. "Nice catch. Hey, I heard about what happened last Friday with Angela – are you alright?"

I looked at her, a little confused, "Yeah, I guess. You heard about that?"

She looked amused, "_Everyone's _heard about it – I mean it's you and Angela Shepard. How much more public could it be?" She slammed her locker shut, waving bye to me.

"Wait, what does that mean?" I asked her, turning as she walked away. She just flashed me a smile, and ran up to meet with one of her friends in the hallway. She looked back once, and turned away quickly. I rolled my eyes, slamming my own locker. Girls.

As it turned out, I never got the chance to see where Terry or Greg was, because as I was walking down the hall, I ran into someone. Literally.

"Hey, Ponyboy." I turned around, looking for the person who had called my name, but didn't see anyone. I cocked my head, confused – it wasn't like my name was ordinary or anything. How many kids have names like '_Ponyboy'_?

So I spun right around again, knocking into someone else. I put my arms out defensively, and the person grabbed them to steady themselves … or so I thought. That was when I realized I was in trouble. The person _didn't _let go of my arms, and instead tightened their grip with strong hands, and before I could even yelp out, I realized who I'd run into. Two-Bit.

He leaned right down to my level, his reddish-brown hair falling across his forehead into his steely gray eyes, now looking quite intimidating and ferocious as he barked at me, "Alright, Curtis – I've been hearing rumors around about what you were doing last night, and I want to know the truth – "

"Two-Bit?" I asked, wide-eyed, like I'd never seen him before in my life. Golly, I was slow sometimes. "I – uh … what?"

He pulled me a little closer, grabbing onto my jacket now. "Tell me what the _hell_ you were doin' in my house with my kid sister last night! Think carefully kid and maybe you'll still have something down there to brag about – just not with _my _baby sister!"

And then I realized that I was in _much_ more trouble than I'd originally thought.

* * *

**(author's note):**

So … OOC Two-Bit not a barrel full of monkeys, huh?

Please excuse our wonderful Two-Bit – he's got major problems, which will all be revealed … momentarily. I've gotten a lot of guesses for "Druggie Two-Bit." Y'all can keep guessing … I just won't tell you if you're right or not. ;)

Okay. Ahh. If you review, you get a small little preview at the next chapter …

Happy April 25th, my readers! Read, review, critique – do what you must, and do it well.

(And Happy late birthday to Two-Bit! 3 AND HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY TO STEVE! Who is in Vietnam right now – wahh.)


	10. Return To Sender

**(author's note): **

You guys should be mad as hell at me – I'm such a jerk, I know. Finals – what can I say? I needed straight A's. I wouldn't be mad if you guys didn't even review. Heck, *I'd* probably do that too. "Make me wait two months for this – no review for you, bitch." Go ahead guys, don't review. I'm really sorry, I totally deserve it. :(

The next chapter's all written though. I hope that makes up for it a little … ?

(**disclaimer):**

I don't own – Hinton does though. =/ I also don't own those lyrics – Randy Newman does. I'm going through my Toy Story phase – anyone else see the new one? I got all choked up.

**(acknowledgements): **

You guys need to write PERSONAL MESSAGES TO **DIVINE ENERGY** who totally came through for you guys on this one. She threatened me with LAPS if I didn't get this in by Friday! She truly rocks; she's the only reason you guys even have this probably. (I know! I'msorrysorrysorry!)

* * *

x- If you got troubles then I got 'em too.  
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.  
We stick together. We can see it through.  
'Cause you've got a friend in me. -x

* * *

"Two-Bit!" I yelped. "I … what?"

He looked slightly amused and exasperated. His mouth twitched slightly as if he wanted to smile, and it was only then that I remembered who he was underneath this tough guy exterior. Good ol' Two-Bit always smilin' and making people laugh. I laughed nervously, and he got mad again. "What?"

"I didn't do anything to your sister," I said slowly, wondering how to plow on. I didn't want to say she invited me over … he'd get suspicious, ask her why, and he'd know that _I _knew … but what _did _I know anyway? All I saw was a bunch of pills on the counter with his surname on 'em – I wasn't sure even what I knew. I flicked my gaze to meet his eyes, finally deciding what to say. "She was scared, Two-Bit."

He looked shocked, but only if you knew him real well could you tell. He cocked his eyebrow real slowly, not quick and coupled with one of his grins like he normally does. And his lips were pursed, like he was thinking of something. He turned away, running his hand through his hair distractedly. "Why?"

"Whaddya mean?" I asked back, and he gave me a warning look. "Two-Bit … where've you been for two days?" There. That was safe.

He looked down, shrugging. "Thinkin'."

"About what? Two-Bit … " I pleaded. "I – I want to know what's going on – and I want to know _now, _Two-Bit. I saw – " I chickened out – I couldn't confront him, tell him that I knew. I was afraid of him, to be honest. I didn't know what to expect from him. Sure, I've been around people on drugs before, but I never knew 'em well enough to actually talk to them. And I certainly never challenged them like I just did.

"Ponyboy … " He sighed, flicking his gaze to me. I looked at him, and was surprised to see he was looking resigned and shrugging his shoulders in a '_What can I say?' _kinda way.

But nothing could've surprised me more than what he said next.

He bit down on the smile threatening to break on his face, and cocked his eyebrow. I stood there, looking back at him. I tried not to falter under his gaze. And then it happened.

He _laughed._

It was like the first gulp of air you get after nearly being choked to death, I was _that _relieved. I exhaled.

"Hey." He lightly slapped me on the arm to get my attention. "I got an idea. Let's hang out tonight – just like old times. There's probably some movie playin' tonight – it's Friday af'erall … " The whole time he spoke, it was in a slow voice, and he gave me a pointed look, and I wasn't real sure what he was trying to tell me – only that it was something important.

I was still nervous, to be honest. And I'm not saying I was scared, because I wasn't. But I felt like I wouldn't be hanging out with a buddy – it didn't feel like that anymore. Terry was my friend. Mark was my friend. Hell, even _Greg _felt more like a friend than Two-Bit did. I finally understood how far we had strayed apart, and it made me sad.

Then I remembered about hanging out with the guys tonight at The Ribbon. "Wait, I can't," I told Two-Bit, grimacing. "Told the guys I'd hang out with 'em tonight … asked me last week."

Two-Bit raised his eyebrows, looking inquisitive. "Oh? I thought for sure you'd be with Ms. Shepard this weekend – glad to see you have some common sense in your head after all, kid."

"Wait – what?" I asked. "_Angela? _What? She tries to get me beat up, gets my _friend_ hospitalized, and people _still_ expect me goin' out with her – hey, anyway. Isn't she married?" I spit that all out real quick. I was tired of hearing about Angela. And I was real embarrassed that I hadn't seen it coming on earlier. Lord, people must've thought I was real dumb not realizing that she was making a pass at me.

Two-Bit grinned and put his hands up. '_This is so weird,' _I thought to myself. "Hey kid – I agree with you. That girl sure is a fox, but I wouldn't go near her with a ten-foot pole."

For some reason that reminded me of the sirens that we had read about in English one time – beautiful, winged women that would lure men to their island. And when the men would crash into the rocks, they'd either drown or die right there on the island – unable to leave. "That ain't even true," I said sourly. "Angela's not even good looking, alright?" I was thinking of Cathy when I said that, but it didn't surprise me. I was thinking more and more about her lately. It made me real angry about how girls had to be god awful to be with in order to get attention, but girls like Cathy got overlooked. It made me like ol' Bryon a little bit more.

"Hmm." Two-Bit nodded, looking real tired all of a sudden. Looking up at him close I realized just how much older he _did _look. First off, his hair was real long and unkept. Greasers stopped greasing back their hair a while ago, but Two-Bit's hair was even longer 'n that. Almost like a hippy. His eyes seemed to have this glazed look to them, like he was thinking of something millions of miles away – and they weren't happy thoughts. He looked pale and he had lost weight – he looked miserable. "Maybe I'll see you around … "

"Yeah," I told him, feeling awful all of a sudden. "Yeah, alright."

As I watched him walk away, I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into. All I knew was that even if I wasn't sure I could help him, I figured I had to try anyway. Even if he didn't want it.

~/~

I decided to skip track today, and just wouldn't tell Darry about it. Not that he'd get real upset about it – he thinks I'm working too hard. I guess you could say that we got a little more understanding of each other after Johnny and Dallas last year, but to me it felt like he was smothering me, and I couldn't stand it sometimes. I felt distant from Darry, even if he _was_ trying harder. I guess it was just my fault that we couldn't get along too well.

As I walked home, I realized that I had forgotten my jacket at school. Normally I wouldn't have noticed, but it was beginning to get cold and only when I started rubbing my arms did I realize I only had my shirt. It wasn't that much of a big deal, but I felt like I was slipping back into the mood I got into after last year. It took me a real long time to get over the murder, and it didn't help much that people would always talk about it. They still do. They might not tell it to my face, but I can still tell.

When I did get home eventually, I realized just how much I wanted Soda back all of a sudden. I always wanted him back – our house felt wrong without him, and it always hurt to realize that he wouldn't be home waiting. But this was a different kind of need – I felt like I did when Johnny and I were on the run, or after I had gotten news _second hand_ about Mom and Dad dying. So what I did was I took my pen, some paper, and I wrote down what I needed to tell him.

_Dear Sodapop,_

_I'm sorry for not writing in such a long time. It's been a busy month – did you know that coach has us doing Indian runs through the park, even in December? We thought for sure he'd let up on us, but it doesn't seem like he will. Darry's always grumbling about how I'm gonna catch some nasty bug, doing this sort of crazy stuff. But I guess football training's different than track, isn't it? _

_I do want to tell you something, but I'm not sure what to begin with, or how to say it. It used to be easier telling you this when we could just talk at night … I'm worried about Two-Bit too. He seems to change so suddenly, and they're such dramatic changes that I don't understand what's going on. Today he practically gave me a death threat when he found out that I was with his sister when he wasn't home, but as soon as I told him the real story, he practically busted out laughing – isn't that something? _

_Gosh Soda, I feel so dumb telling you this sort of stuff when you're on your way to Vietnam, and might be getting shot at while I whine about catching hypothermia or having problems getting this girl that I like. It just seems so small compared to your problems sometimes. I wish you were here, Soda. I miss you a lot, and I promise to write again soon, if anything interesting happens. _

_I'll tell Two-Bit you said hi. I hope Steve's alright too. I see Evie around sometimes, and she looks real sad, like she misses him. _

_- Ponyboy _

It didn't say all that I had wanted to say, but as I continued writing it down to my brother, it seemed to get harder and harder to write. I tried to tell him about Cathy and the guys, but I'd always get images of Soda getting shot at, and then trying to write down cheerful letters to match mine. It didn't seem fair that I was safe here, and Soda wasn't.

And then I tried to tell him about Two-Bit, but that didn't work either. I wondered if I'd ever be able to tell anyone about Two-Bit.

"Hey, I'm home!" Darry.

I stayed in my room for a bit longer, and re-read Soda's latest letter. I heard Darry's slow, pounding footsteps. "Hey, I'm home."

"I know," I told him, turning my eyes to meet his. He jerked his head at the letter. "You writing to Soda?"

I nodded.

"Hmm." He stepped into my room, nodding. "I just finished mine too – I'm glad you wrote one. Half of the one I got was him whining about how you don't write to him anymore." He grinned.

"Oh." I felt awful – Soda had always been there for me, even when he could be there physically. And I couldn't even write a lousy letter? "Do you want me to mail them? I'm going out tonight anyway."

"Well … could you?" Darry asked, sighing. "I was thinking of doing it tomorrow, but Fridays are the best to get mail in."

"No problem." I sat up quickly and took my letter. "Where is it? I'll go get it." I walked out of my room, down to the kitchen.

"Ponyboy." I turned around and saw Darry. I hadn't realized he'd followed me. "So … did you talk to Two-Bit today?"I turned to him, and felt angry. I had gone by his advice and Two-Bit still had refused to tell me anything – it was beginning to make me infuriated.

"No I didn't talk to Two-Bit!" I snapped at him, angry. "What good will it do anyway – he doesn't _want _to talk to me, alright? He doesn't _care._"

Darry walked over to the table and sat down. "Look Ponyboy, I'm not here to tell you what you need to do with your friends alright? You're a big boy – decide on your own. I just thought you'd want to try a little harder, seeing as it's _Two-Bit – _"

"Well so what?" I growled at him. "He's being just as immature as _I _am. He talks to you, don't he?" I thought about Two-Bit asking to see me tonight, and I wondered briefly if I should've gone.

"Yes, but … " Darry paused. "We both need to be there for him, alright? I think we should go over there tomorrow to settle this once and for all."

I stared at him for another five seconds. "Alright, fine. Where's that letter?"

~/~

When I got to the post office, it was already around 6:20, so I figured I had time to kill before heading down to The Ribbon – it wasn't that far away, actually. I really didn't feel like going somewhere that night. I walked up the steps into the building, and saw quite a few people there putting letters in.

There was one woman there who had clamped her hand around a little boy's hand. I noticed the kid first, anyway. He was squalling and squirming away, but she wouldn't let go. "_Stay_." She took the envelope to her lips and kissed it lightly before putting it in the box.

After Soda went to boot camp, the question of how to send letters to him came up, and we were told that the MPS would take care of it. As long as we sent it to a special post office we just put 'em in and it was done. When I got there that day, I remembered just why I hated mailing letter to Soda so much – it's because of the other people there.

There were lots of women there like that first one I saw. Some of them had kids with them – some of them didn't. The kids there always bugged me. I started to dislike kids a little more than I had used to, but it was also the fact that none of them seemed to _care _an awful lot about who they were sending those letters to. I tried to understand, but it just made me grateful that I was old enough to care about my brother being in war.

I stood behind a few of the people putting their mail in – whispering into them, kissing them, and I felt more uncomfortable. I was moving up when I saw one of the women turn around to walk away, and I actually recognized her. It was Steve's girlfriend, Evie.

I didn't know Evie too well, except that she was grease like us, and she acted like one too. I could only remember seeing her a few times. I'd seen her with Steve a few times, and she works as some waitress now at one of the local food joints. I didn't think she knew who I was, but I gave her a tight smile and she stopped. "Shit!" She stomped her foot on the ground, frowning at me.

I blinked, surprised. "Uh … "

She sighed impatiently, and I kind of understood why she got along with Steve so well – they both sure made me feel dumb even when I didn't do anything. "I don't believe it – I was _looking _for you, and right now of all times you're here."

"Excuse me, son?" An older man behind me cleared his throat. "If you wouldn't mind talking to your girlfriend somewhere else, could we possibly go in front of you?"

"Oh, yeah, right," I mumbled. I kicked myself for not telling him that Evie wasn't my girlfriend, because I didn't think she'd take too kindly to that. I was so confused that I probably looked like some deer caught in the headlights. "One second … " I strode over to the box and was about to put my letter in when Evie grabbed my wrist in. Her hands were cold, and they were so small compared to mine.

"And what do you think you're doin', boy?" She almost sounded amused, and she laid her accent on thick. She cocked her eyebrow, and I wouldn't ever tell Steve this, but she was kinda pretty. She wasn't like Angela or Cathy, or even like Cherry – but lots of girls aren't. Evie didn't dye her hair like lots of other greaser girls did – and instead it was dark and curly and ran down her pale cheeks; it matched her eyes, which were a dark brown but coated in dark makeup. She wasn't all that thin, but I guess that wasn't a real bad thing. She lowered my arm.

"I'm sorry. It's been a rough week. Give me that letter for a minute?" Oh, yeah. She was definitely a greaser girl. She kept her voice light and airy when she could help it, and leapt for the letter.

"Why?" I asked her roughly, without meaning to. She winced a bit. "I mean … what do you want to do with it?"

"I'm not going to read your letter about your little girlfriend or anything, I just want to write something on the envelope, honest."

"What?" I asked her suspiciously. I didn't like the way she had phrased that sentence – I hated it when people told me I was a kid. She's probably never had anything bad happen to her that worse than breaking a nail or something.

She rolled her eyes and swiped the letter. She took the pen from her pocket and wrote something on the front, cupping it with her hands so I couldn't see. "What is it?"

"My God," she mumbled. "You gotta know everything?" She scribbled something down and ended it with a violent slash, before putting it down in the post box before I could say anything.

"Hey, missy. You gotta wait your turn," one lady old enough to be my grandmother said.

Evie bit her lip but didn't say anything as she retreated from the post office. I ran after her. "Hey," I told her. "What – "

"It was nothing, alright?" she told me, looking like she just wanted to stop talking about it. She looked down and sighed. "Could you do me a favor?"

I shrugged. "Aw, I dunno … I have to get going soon. I have to be somewhere at seven – "

"Not _now_," she said, smiling a little. "I … hmm. The next time you write to Sodapop, can you tell me when you're going to the post office? Here, wait." She took out her pen again from the little pocketbook, and took my arm. "This is my number – you can call me on Saturday nights, Sundays, or after three on Wednesdays – I'm off from work then."

I looked at the loopy numbers on my arm. "Why do you need to talk to Steve so bad?"

We had been walking, and stopped by the truck. Evie sat on the hood and shrugged. "It's nothing. I just wanted to talk – he's already in 'Nam, did you know that? He stopped the letters really early though; while he was still in basic training. If he wanted to break up with me he _could _have, it's not like I – "

I zoned her out afterwards, nodding occasionally. Why had he stopped writing to her, I wondered? I guessed that Evie thought she could tell Soda, and then he could tell Steve. I didn't know how to tell her that Soda was just on his way to Vietnam, and probably wouldn't even see Steve once he got there.

"—and I mean, I haven't been distant or dishonest at _all, _what does that say, right? I just wish – hey? You listening?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'll tell Sodapop to tell Steve to answer your letter, okay?"

"_And call _me, alright?" she repeated slowly. "I'm tired of this – I'm just sending the letter to Soda, and _he _can send it to Steve."

I didn't think I should tell her that Soda probably didn't see Steve around too much. "Alright, I will."

She nodded. "Okay, I'll see you around then?"

"Mmhmm." I nodded, and got into the truck. I looked back, and she was rubbing her arms and looking up at the sky with a lost look on her face. '_We're all lost,_' I thought to myself, and started the engine.

* * *

(**author's note):**

Ponyboy's such a drama queen, hmm? Next chapter is coming as soon as Dee gets it back to me, and I fix up some stupid stuff I did with the timeline. ;)

Happy June 28th, my readers. Read and flame if you must (which you do, and should right now). :-)


	11. Pressure

**(author's note):**

Here it is! :) Have I been punished enough? I'm going to say this beforehand - read this (especially Ponyboy's part) with an open mind PLEASE. It needs to get worse before it gets better. And I think we should pardon Ponyboy for anything rude he does here. He is only a boy, afterall. ;)

(**disclaimer/acknowledgements):**

I don't own. Obviously. Hinton owns Outisders. Anberlin owns "Feel Good Drag" lyrics. Thank-you to **DIVINE ENERGY** again for beta'ing. She's quite amazing, really. And she saved me from being really _really **really** _**_really _**embarassed because of one little word. You know which word it was, Dee. Thanks!

* * *

x- Prayers that need no answer now.  
I'm tired of who I am.  
You were my greatest mistake  
I fell in love with your sin.  
Your littlest sin. -x

_

* * *

_

"Hey, Curtis! What was the hold up?" Terry greeted me, a bottle clutched in his right hand. He waved with his left, and I could already see he was pretty soused.

"Hi, Terry. And nothing, I was just at the post office." Greg was there, sitting on Terry's car, but looking over at some crowd of girls who were all giggling at these two guys going at it. I think they were waiting to see if they'd start racing. Both of them were greaser guys, which was pretty common nowadays. Socs stopped doing a lot of the jumping and fights with us greasers a while back. They became a lot more liberal and into human rights stuff, and treated us more like charity cases than anything. I'm not sure what was worse – being stomped on or being coddled.

"Hey, where's Mark?" I asked the both of them, and they shrugged.

"Not sure, Baby Curtis – I think he's with Cathy … " I felt my blood turn cold. "… And Bryon." Greg smirked at me, but said nothing. I could feel my face heating up, and I was getting really angry by that time. First for my face turning red as a cherry tomato, and two – goddamit, what had Mark _told _them?

Terry looked from Greg to me real quick, like he understood. He just grinned and said to me, "Mark's somewhere else. Said he needed to take care of something - "

"- Probably his bar tab. Him and Bryon are always scrounging up money for that guy, uh ... what's his name?" Greg snapped his fingers, looking thoughtful.

"Who? Charlie?" Terry asked, eyebrows raised. "Naw, man. Di'in't y'all hear?" Greg and me shook our heads. "Yeah, yeah. He got shot a while ago, Mark said."

"Well, least now he'll stop asking for money," Greg grumbled, glancing back at those girls near the road.

"Maybe you could stand to say 'no' once in a while, Williamson," I shot back, elbowing him lightly. "Hey, Terry - I didn't hear that. When'd Mark tell you?"

"Aw man," Terry started, shaking his hair into his eyes. "Mark di'in't tell me nothing. S'all over school how him and Bryon got those Texans in jail for shooting the guy." He looked at me exhasperatedly, but grinned again. "Don't tell me you didn't hear about that Curtis!"

"I've got stuff on my mind," I mumbled. I looked at Greg again and changed the subject. "Hey, Greg – you gonna just sit there, or you gonna go talk to one of those girls?" I jerked my thumb to the girls and Greg peered curiously at my thumb.

"Hey, who wrote on – _aw, hell. _Curtis – what chick wrote on your arm _today_?" he whooped, holding out my arm with Evie's number on it.

"Hey, Greg – lay off," I mumbled, trying to take my arm back.

"I think I recognize that number," Terry mumbled, taking my arm and examining it. I was getting real jittery. It was one thing to talk about some girl, another thing entirely when the girl found out. "Yeah … that looks like my neighbor's phone number; the crazy old bat with the cats and the ten-year old milk in her fridge!" He cracked up, and I punched him in the arm. He caught my arm, and soon we ended up fighting - but not enough to hurt each other. Well, we didn't hurt each other _too _bad.

"She cute, Curtis?" Terry laughed, holding me in a headlock. I smelt peanut butter on his breath. I broke out of it and sat up, brushing myself off.

"Quit it," I said slowly, enunciating each word. "So hey, what do you guys want to do?" I looked around and saw Greg talking to one of the girls who kept glancing back at Terry 'n me. I thought about telling Terry to hide the alcohol, but then Greg came back, crooking his finger to the girls to follow.

"Hey – guess what I found?" Greg said, smirking. I saw the gap in his mouth where one tooth had been knocked out during some fight. It wasn't noticeable unless you knew where to look though. "Why don't we take these fine ladies some place nice?"

Terry shrugged nonchalantly, which was funny seeing on Terry who was usually such the jokester. "Alright. What do you think, Curtis?" There were four girls – I wondered how that was going to work.

"Um, alright," I said reluctantly. I was hoping that we could've just waited for Mark to come back, and maybe hang out with him, Bryon and Cathy - if he was even with them. We started walking in the direction of Jay's, and I heard fast clapping of heels, and suddenly there was a girl's arm looped around mine. "Hi."

She smiled at me. "I'm Mary Haden – yours?"

"Ponyboy Curtis. Nice to meet ya," I told her, nodding. She giggled and said she liked my name, and then commented on what a gentleman I was. I have to admit, it was nice having a girl give you so many compliments in the first five seconds you know her. I followed the rules that Soda had pretty much told me when we were younger, and I was trying real hard to be polite.

"I see you around school sometimes," she told me, twirling her blonde hair between her fingers. "But I don't think we have any classes together ... " Her nails were this deep red, like Angela's were that night of the dance. I still thought it was a cool color. "What?" she asked, a little worried.

"Huh? Oh, nuthin'," I said. "I like your nails – tuff color." She smiled, and raised nibbled on one of her nails almost self-conciously.

We talked a little more about school, and she would always nod and smile, like she was actually interested. I was feeling a little antsy, but I wasn't sure why. I figured it had something to do with being so close to the West Side. After the Dingo got bombed, greasers and Socs alike started coming to Jay's, and while the Socs didn't bug us too much anymore, I was always on the look-out. Terry and Greg had split up with the girls divided - Greg had two with him at the moment. I turned to Mary, who seemed to understand.

"You know … " she said slowly. "We don't have to go with those guys." She jerked her head at Terry and Greg with the three other girls. "We could go somewhere else … ?"

I might be dumb enough to not know when someone's flirting with me, but even I knew what she was talking about. I tried telling myself that I didn't want to fool around with Mary. I had just met her after all. But there was something I really liked about her. She was pretty – prettier than Evie was, and I felt like it didn't really matter too much if I didn't know her. We could talk later after all, I tried to tell myself.

We walked away from Jay's, down the sidewalk. She smiled at me coyly, and pressed on. "I hope you don't mind gettin' away from all that action. I just wanted you all to myself."

I was taken aback. I had gotten a first impression of Mary, and I knew she was a flirt and a bold one at that. I guess I was just surprised by how upfront she was with me. It seemed like a girl would do this to Sodapop, but not _me. _"Naw, it's alright." I felt my face heat up a bit, and I knew that something was going to happen soon.

We walked a bit farther, and she took my hand, sighing. "This is so nice."

I turned to her, and that strange feeling got a lot stronger. She was really pretty. Her hair was a nice blonde color, and it hung in little waves right on her shoulders. I had a little experience with girls, but this was the first time since I actually started noticing them that I've had one up close. Maybe it was the fact that I had started so late, or maybe I was still a little sore about the whole Angela dilemna. But for whatever reason running through my head, I kissed her right there.

I caught her lips on mine, practically missing her mouth the first time. She giggled again as she rubbed her forehead against mine, and deepened the kiss. We were still standing off on the sidewalk, so I inched slowly off to the side so we wouldn't bug anybody. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I tried pulling her closer with my arms around her small waist.

She started making these groaning sounds, and I wasn't real sure of what I could do except to keep kissing her. She cupped her hand around my head, fingering my hair with those tuff red nails of hers, and continued with that for a while. We both had to come up for air eventually, and she smiled breathlessly up at me, pressing her nose to mine. "Hey, who's that?" She pointed to Evie's number on my arm. I shook my head. "No one." She cocked her eyebrow, but didn't press on.

She had this nice girl smell coming off of her that I can't really explain more than that. It wasn't a specific scent like soap or vanilla like people always say. She just smelled like a girl.

I laughed, and gave her a short peck on the lips. She travelled away from my mouth, and started kissing my neck where the jaw line ends. It was getting easier as we went along, and soon it became almost like a natural instinct. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. I could feel all the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and the only way to let it out was to just keep on kissing her.

It didn't last that long, though.

"Hey, where'd Curtis go?" Terry.

"I don't know – he went with Mary somewhere. We shouldn't look for them, Mary'll get _so _angry." One of the girls was talking, and I took Mary's hand, and ducked behind some table, ignoring the protests from the guys there.

"C'mon, we should go," I told her, wondering how she was going to explain the makeup smears and the wild hair. I felt guilty all of a sudden - like I was a little kid caught with my hands in the cookie jar. I knew how girls felt about guys taking advantage of 'em, and I always never really paid much thought to it. Didn't think it'd happen to me. I looked back apologetically at Mary. She pulled her hair back, and smiled.

"No, let's just stay here," she purred, pulling me back. "They'll stop looking after a _while_."

"Really," I said slowly. "Mary, c'mon. We don't want them to think that we're … " I broke off, and she looked at me impatiently.

" 'That we're doing _what,_" she said, snapping on the 'what'. I winced. "exactly? My friends know me better than that."

She stood up, and I bit my lip. I hadn't meant for her to take it in such a bad way. I was beginning to understand that girls were difficult to understand. It made me wonder how people actually got married and could stand each other for more than a year.

"Let's just go," I mumbled. I pulled her up, and we walked out to the sidewalk again - it was one of those open food joint places. I felt a little less attracted to her now. She seemed to get a lot less pretty, and I just wanted to find the guys and get going.

"Oh, fine," she huffed. "I'm going to go get freshened up. And by the way," she said crossly, "you can stop looking at me like I'm trash – I haven't even done it yet." She walked away looking really hacked off, and I felt bad. She mumbled something that I couldn't catch, but looked close to hitting me or crying. I couldn't tell. I figured I'd wait outside for her and then I saw Mark coming up.

"Hey, Mark!" I called out. He didn't look up. "Mark! MARK!" I yelled, and he saw me. He walked over to me, and grinned.

"Curtis – hey, Terry and Greg are looking for you. You with someone?"

"Yeah," I told him. "You know Mary Haden?" He whistled.

"Hey now, you got lucky, didn't you? She's a real fox. See, I was telling Bryon you're not as clueless as he thinks. You know when girls dig you – you just chose the sane ones over the … well, insane ones." I knew he was talking about Angela.

"Hmm," I grunted.

He nodded, and slid down. "I ran into him with Cathy, and just said hello. Could tell they wanted to be alone. Cathy was getting annoyed at some fight going on, and Bryon left with her I think."

"Yeah … " I said softly. It reminded me of Cherry a bit – how she hated fights. I wondered why I kept connecting those two together. They just seemed a lot alike. It made me wonder what Cherry might've been like if she lived on the East Side. _Would_ she be like Cathy? I slid down next to him.

"Anyway. Need to figure out my ride home. Bryon left with the car." He shook his head. "Phew. Man, Bryon sure digs her - I don't get it, actually. She's not that great." He looked down frowning, one eyebrow cocked. His yellow eyes were gleaming with something I don't think I've ever seen on Mark before - jealousy. He shook his head and laughed.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Whatever works for him, right?"

He looked at me as some guy gave us the stink-eye. Like we were breaking the law by sitting down on the side of a building. Mark frowned. "You still dig Cathy, don't you?"

I pursed my lips. "No."

He sighed. "Sorry, man. There's nothing I can do though. My brother really likes her and – "

"Good for him," I shot back. I was sick and tired of hearing about Bryon. He was just going to break it off with her for no good reason like he always did. "She goes after your brother, then I definitely don't want her."

"Hey!" he said sharply. "Leave him alone, alright?"

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's just been a bad week."

"Bad week. How about – " He stopped, and smiled weakly. "Yeah, alright man. Everything's just changing too fast – it's fucking weird."

I nodded. "Hey, where's Terry? I should get – "

Mary appeared at the door again, and I waved. "Over here!"

I was really loathing her coming over, but when she did, Mark just smiled. She seemed to brighten up again - Mark had that affect on people; he could make anybody smile, and convince anybody to do stuff for him. He was like Soda in that way, but Mark was different somehow. I always knew that, I think. Mark was different. "Hey there, Mary – you were in there an awfully long time. Ponyboy here was going to come in and get you."

She looked at me, cocking her brow. "He was? Well, he _is_ the perfect gentleman, isn't he?" I had a feeling she was making fun of me.

"Sure am – let's get going. Mark has to get back to Cathy and Bryon, right?" I told him. I didn't make any sense, but I didn't want to be with Mary. But I didn't want _Mark _with her either. And what was this 'gentleman' joke about?

He nodded. "Yup. Oh, hey look – there's M&M … " He frowned. "Who're they?"

I looked where Mark had looked and saw the hippy boy that Curly had been making fun of. "Hey, I know that kid…"

He looked at me and grinned. "I was thinking of introducing you two – y'all are a lot alike."

"Who is he?" Mary intoned curiously, and I was annoyed again.

"A hippy – Cathy's brother. M&M? That his real name?" I asked Mark. He nodded. Mary nodded.

"I like that - but why would his parents name him after a _candy_?" She giggled, and I must've glared or something because she stopped. I was in a real crummy mood. I was getting like that more and more lately. I sighed and put my arm around her.

" 'Dunno… hey, I better go see him for a minute; y'all want to come?" Mark turned to walk to the kid before even hearing our answer.

The kid was talking to these two older hippies. He was practically swallowed up by them. They were tall and heavy looking, and wore the same Birkenstock sandals and loose clothing. M&M was just a small, skinny black haired kid who was stroking his peace medallion absent-mindedly. "Yeah," I said without thinking. "Sure."

Mary made a noise in the back of her throat. "Sorry," I told her. "I think I see the guys over there – you could … ?" She shook her head, looking like she was embarassed that I had heard her.

"I'll go with you guys," she said quietly.

We caught up to Mark, and I looked up closer at him, and saw that he wasn't looking too hot today either. Just like Two-Bit. What was going on with everyone? We walked over to M&M, who hadn't realized we were there. One of the older hippies nodded and flashed a V sign. "Peace."

Mark did the same, and then addressed M&M. "Hey, M&M," Mark said slowly, drinking in the sight of the two other hippies. "How's it hanging?"

M&M looked up at Mark with those grave, fixated eyes. It surprised me about how open they were, and how focused he seemed to be on Mark. "I'm alright. How are you?"

Mary chuckled a bit to herself at the formality. M&M looked at her, and blinked. Mary introduced herself and M&M nodded. "I'm M&M. These are my friends." He pointed to the two hippies.

"Yeah, I can see that," Mark mumbled.

M&M turned to me before I could say anything, "I know you. You helped me when Curly jumped me. Your name is Ponyboy, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm Ponyboy. Nice seeing you again, M&M."

He turned his head, but kept looking at me with those gray eyes – it was surreal. If I were to tell anybody about this kid, or write it down ever, it might seem like he was high on something. You had to be there - physically talking to him - to understand how he was just dead serious about everything. It's funny how we take the simplest sentences and make assumptions out of them when we hear them from somebody else. All I can say is that if you'd have to meet M&M Carlson to actually gain an understanding of him. It was weird having such an open, blunt kid. Especially on the East Side. It was spooky.

"You with anybody, M&M?" Mark asked casually.

He shook his head.

"Well, take care of yourself kid, ya hear?" Mark told him. He took one more look at the hippies, but they already seemed to be moving away from us.

"Thanks, Cat," one hippy said to Mark, nodding. Mark gave a quick glance to Mary and me before nodding to the guy.

"Alright, well I better get goin' ... " Mark said, trailing off.

"Hey, Mark," I mumbled to him. "I could give you two a ride home if you want ... ?" I thought, wished foolishy for a moment that maybe we'd see Cathy if I drove her little brother home. It wasn't the deepest thought, but I can admit I was pretty desperate.

Mark leaned in again. "Didn't catch that. What'd you say?" I blushed.

"Do you," I said slowly, pointing to him and M&M, "need rides home? Bryon left with Cathy didn't he?"

"Oh, yeah. He did," Mark realized casually, bobbing his head. "Yeah, do you mind? M&M, need a ride home?"

M&M nodded. "I don't have a car."

"Well, that settles it then," Mark said as seriously as he could, but I could hear the strained laughter in his words. "Thanks, Curtis."

"Ponyboy," Mary whispered, tugging on my sleeve, looking uncomfortable. "Let's go now, okay?"

"Okay," I told her. "I'll drive you home?" She smiled and looped her arm in mine again while Mark and M&M followed in our wake.

* * *

Forgive Mr. Curtis for being so passe with a girl - he's just very confused and a little scared because of what just happened. (-cue the 'D'AWW. POOR PONYBOY' chorus-) Haha. Will he redeem himself in the next chapter? Perhaps. ;) We'll be seeing Ms. Haden a little while later, too.

Happy July 4th (hey, it's actually a holiday now!), my readers. Read, review, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	12. Lighthouses

**(author's note / disclaimer): **

I own nothing. Hinton and Good Charlotte do though. And thanks once again to **divine energy**. Do I really have to go back to rehab/comma boot camp though, Dee? D:

Enjoy guys. ;)

* * *

x- I'm young and hopeless.  
I'm lost and I know this.  
I'm going nowhere fast that's what they say ... -x

* * *

I realized halfway to the truck that we didn't have enough seats for everyone, but Mark solved that problem pretty quickly.

"Mary here can sit on my lap - I'll be her seat belt," Mark offered gallantly, winking at her. She raised her eyebrows, a knowing smile curling on her lips.

"I don't mind," she said indifferently, shrugging. She carefully propped herself up on the seat before sliding onto Mark. He scooted down the row and wrapped his arms around her.

"Okay, M&M can sit next to me," he said brightly, motioning to M&M who was looking solemnly at the darkening sky.

"M&M?" I asked him, "Come on now." I didn't know why I was so unsettled by the kid. Maybe I was being bitter because of his complete openness - his childlike innocence that I seemed to have lost. I don't know. I don't think it really matters anymore, anyway. That's what I try telling myself.

Driving home, Mark tried playing with the radio until eventually giving up frustratedly. "I should tell you ..." I said. "That damned thing hasn't worked in ages."

"Now you tell me," he sniffed and tightened his arms around Mary, who giggled. He studied the radio. "Y'know ... I could probably swipe you a new one if you want, Curtis."

"Yeah, and get that one stolen from some no good hoodlum?" I joked. "Don't worry, Mark. 'Sides, what would Darry say if I suddenly had a new radio?"

"Yeah." He paused. "You're right. You're right." He shrugged and tapped M&M on the shoulder, whispering. I caught one word: Cathy. I felt heat creep to my face.

"I live right here, Ponyboy," Mary told me, grabbing my upper arm. I stopped the car, and quickly thought if I should walk her up or not - we weren't going out and I wasn't even sure if I liked her or not. But I thought again. I _did _kiss her, and she thought I did. It really wasn't fair to leave her like this.

I walked up the steps with her - she had a nice house. It wasn't over the top like a Soc's but it had a safe, static feel about it. I could remember going to Johnny's house, and the tension I'd feel by just walking by made me anxious. It was like whatever made that house a living hell for Johnnycake would come tearing out with an actual physical form.

She struggled with the metal gate for a minute, and cursed when she got her finger stuck. "Here, lemme help - "

"No," she snapped. "No," she said softer, "I got it."

We walked up slowly to the porch, and I turned to her. "Look Mary ..."

"Save it," she said tiredly. "I'm not even sure what I was thinking. Just forget it, Ponyboy."

"Oh, alright then ..." I started saying, feeling a little relieved that I got out of it so easy. Is this what it was like for us? Remembering girls like Sylvia and Evie, I knew that none of them would stand for being used like this. But maybe I didn't understand it as well as I thought. I wasn't a girl after all, and looking at the petite blonde standing on the porch, biting her lip, I could tell she wasn't likely to forget it either.

"Y'know," I started slowly, "I have track season now and I'm real busy ..."

She sighed impatiently. "Di'in't you hear me before? I said just forget it," she snapped. "I have a boyfriend anyway, Curtis. And it looks like you," she continued, jerking her chin at my arm, "Have a little girlfriend of your own, anyway."

"She's not my girlfriend," I said. "She's my buddy's girlfriend. He's in 'Nam right now with my brother." Her eyes widened a bit and she nodded.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

She quickly looked at the door. "My father will be wondering where I am ..." she started, looking at me curiously. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," I told her as she yanked open the screen and closed it gently behind her. "I'll see you later."

When I got back to the truck, Mark was leaning against the car door, chewing away on a cigarette.

"Don't do that, man," I chided him, yanking it out of his mouth. "You're ruining it." I looked down distastefully at it. "That's gross."

He took it back, quick as a cat, and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm heading out, Curtis. I only live a block away from ol' Mary." He winked at me.

"I should walk you at least," I insisted.

"Such a gentleman," he snorted. "I see you know how to treat your boyfriend, Curtis." He laughed and started away. I rolled my eyes and noticed someone else was missing.

"Hey, Mark – where'd the kid go?" I called after him.

"He didn't feel like going home just yet," Mark replied without turning around. "He's headed over to the movie house or bowling alley, I think. He'll be fine. I told him to call if he needs anything."

I sighed. No chance of seeing Cathy then, I thought glumly to myself as I hopped up into the truck again. I started home, thinking about how I wished I knew her better. She seemed like a tuff girl, and I wouldn't have minded just being her friend if I had to. I was thinking that if it had been Cathy tonight, she wouldn't have let me do what I wanted, and then make me feel bad afterwards. She probably would've told me exactly what was on her mind. That's how Mark always described her. But while Mark thought it was a bad thing, I thought it might be nice.

I felt lonelier than ever, driving home that night. I had waited so long to grow up – to be like my brothers and their friends. And now that I was here, I'd give anything to be a kid again. I guess Johnny knew what he was talking about; I only wish I had listened to him a bit more carefully. I felt like I had failed his wish somehow; like my childhood had slipped through my fingers like sand.

~/~

"Ponyboy?" Darry said softly, walking into my room that night. "I didn't hear you come in, buddy. How was it?"

"Good," I chimed, not itching to tell him about it all. I didn't want to tell anyone, actually. I was feeling a little sick on the whole thing to tell the truth.

Darry nodded slowly, and pulled out the chair to sit next to the bed, which is where I was reading. "Let's talk."

Oh, great I thought. Here we go. "About?"

He pursed his lips. "Two-Bit."

Well, I thought again. I wasn't expecting that. "Thought we were gonna talk to him."

"Well, yes," he said carefully. "But then I realized that it wasn't fair keeping you in the dark like I was. I thought of how I'd feel if Soda and you were keeping secrets from me, and only one of you would tell me a little."

"What's Soda got to do with anything?" I said a little sharply.

"Nothing, Ponyboy. Jesus, can't you just -?" Darry sighed. "I'm just making an example. You don't have to get so worked up all the time – golly, Ponyboy, it's like you're in love with your own misery."

"I'm _not,_" I seethed. "It's just –"

"Okay, stop." Darry held up a hand. "I want you to stop talking to me like that first of all. Second, we were talking about Two-Bit, remember? Well, you know that he hasn't been in school a lot recently …"

"Yeah," I noted, nodding slowly.

"…and he's gotten real serious lately about everything … but now he's not coming home as often, and I'm really worried about Annie," Darry seemed to go off track, looking thoughtful.

"Darry," I said forcefully, bringing him back to the subject. "I've noticed – and …" I swallowed. "There were loads of bills on the counter when I went over there, Dar. And …" My throat had closed up. I almost felt ashamed to rat out my buddy like this. ". . . pills. On the counter," I whispered.

He seemed to notice something I didn't about my story. He met my gaze sharply, like he had just figured something important out. "Ponyboy … do you know whose pills those _are_?"

I met his gaze, and then bit my lip. "Are they … his?" And then I understood something odd about my assumption. Those pills were _prescribed, _it had almost looked like. Oh, lord … what if he wasn't abusing them like I had thought? What if Two-Bit was really sick?

"No," Darry whispered. "Pony, about a month ago, Two-Bit took his Mama in because of some odd stuff that was going on with her. She started getting real tired … and you know she's on her feet all day, working at that bar."

I felt my stomach drop. "Okay, and … ?"

"His Mama's real sick, Ponyboy," Darry said bluntly. "Real sick. She's got a bone disease … Paget's disease. You ever hear of that?"

I shook my head. "So … those are _her _pills?"

Darry nodded. "Yeah. She just went back to the hospital for some tests last week. Reckon that's why Annie was all alone."

Mrs. Mathews. I felt like bawling. Or throwing something at the wall. I thought of Two-Bit's friendly mother, who would check up on us every now and again even though she worked like a dog. Who never kicked her son out and never seemed to run out of energy, even with a son like Two-Bit. I was angry – why was it that any positive adult in my life had to end up sick or dead? I thought of the different folks I knew – Steve's old man kicking his son out every week, Johnny's slob of a mother, the Shepards' household constantly fighting. And Mrs. Mathews was the one who had to get sick? I thought about what a mess Two-Bit was lately, and I thought about poor Annie, scared out of her mind.

"Hey, maybe I should check on them tomorrow?" I said slowly. Darry took this under consideration.

"I'm sure Two-Bit'd appreciate that. I was actually going to go with him tomorrow and help him find a job. That's what we've been doing for the past few weeks," he explained.

"Good idea," I said dully, but I wasn't listening anymore. My head was too filled with potential outcomes of this. I was even a little afraid of what might happen if I got involved – what could I do?

"Okay," Darry said softly. "Are you gonna be alright tonight, kid?"

"Of course," I retorted coolly, although I knew I wouldn't get much sleep tonight. I wished Soda was here again, so we could talk about it. I'd be able to go to sleep even with such awful news if Soda was here.

I saw Darry nod and look at the floor for a few more seconds before getting up. "Darry …" I called out. He turned around cautiously. I wanted to tell him a lot of things right then. That maybe he didn't have to help Two-Bit on his own, that I thought he was a real swell guy for taking on yet another responsibility like this. I wanted him that I loved him; it seemed important right then to let him know. "Good-night."

He gave me a small smile. "'Night Ponyboy." He clicked the light off and I flipped over on my stomach, plunging my face into the pillow. Why was it so difficult telling Darry this stuff? I almost wanted to have this one power over my oldest brother, and it made less and less sense to me when I'd try to pick a fight with him. Maybe Darry was right – maybe I was in love with my own misery. Maybe I didn't have a real reason for the way I acted.

I lifted my face to the window, taking in the shocking brightness of the moonlight that night. I wanted Soda here to tell me it was going to be OK. I wanted him to promise to talk to Darry and wrap his arms around me, to wake me up by tickling me, and to make cake so sweet that it rotted your teeth out. Mostly I needed him here to be that beacon of light … that light that Darry and I needed; the light we had to follow to find home again. To find each other again.

* * *

... HA HA! Shame on **all of you people who thought Two-Bit was on drugs**! Goodness, do you have such little faith in Two-Bit? That's right ... be ashamed.

We'll have some Annie, Two-Bit, Mrs. Mathews ... and perhaps an appearance from a certain greaser girl? Leave it up to y'all to figure out which one we'll see.

Happy August 8th (?) my readers! Review, critique, flame - do what you must, and do it well.


	13. Fragile

**(author's note / disclaimer): **

Yeah, so I'm going on vacation soon, and if y'all will get ANYTHING else before then, expect it sometime . . . next week I guess? Right. I don't own any characters you recognize from "The Outsiders", and I don't own the lyrics - Canned Heat does. xP

THANK-YOU HUGS TO DIVINE ENERGY who got this done within the hour I gave it to her, I think. O_O

* * *

x- Make someone happy. Make someone smile.  
Let's all work together, and make life worthwhile. -x

* * *

"Ponyboy?" I felt Darry shake me roughly that Saturday morning and I groaned, burying my head deeper into my pillow. "C'mon, kiddo. Wake up. We're gonna go check on the Mathews, remember?"

I yawned and stretched. "I can walk over by myself, Darry. What's the rush?"

"Yeah, but I'm leaving _now_, Ponyboy and I want to make sure you get there," Darry said firmly. "You still have that English analysis to do, don't you?"

I looked up at Darry, slightly amazed at how well he kept up with my school. I wasn't real thrilled to see that he paid that close enough attention to me, but it was something at least.

"It's not really difficult . . ." I started slowly. "I gotta take my favorite and least favorite composition, and explain how I've matured as a writer, or somethin'." I scratched my head. "It won't take long. I've only _had _four compositions this semester."

Darry grunted. "Well, then it'll be that much better if you start right away, won't it?" I didn't say anything. "C'mon. I told Mrs. Mathews I was stopping by, and that was twenty minutes ago."

"Just wondering, but do you sleep at _all _Dar?" I asked him, after peering at the clock that said 7:01. I tried my best to look innocent. It didn't work, and Darry cuffed me on the back of the head playfully. It still hurt though, even if he didn't mean it to.

"I got too much to do, Pone. Not enough time to sleep." With that, he walked away. I could tell he was trying to make a joke, but it had only made me feel bad again. He probably _didn't_ get enough sleep and I couldn't help but feel that it was partly my fault. I sighed and got out of bed, wondering what would be waiting for us at the Mathews' house.

~/~

"Ponyboy Curtis, come over here right now and give me a hug, boy!" Mrs. Mathews greeted us cheerfully as she pulled open the door. Darry and I had been on the stoop for literally five seconds before she came out.

"Hi, Mrs. Mathews," I said, hoping that my grin didn't look too forced. I gave her a hug, but was terrified to do much else but stay limp in her arms. I wasn't sure what a bone disease did, but I could imagine how much it hurt. "How're you?"

Mrs. Mathews was a tiny woman, not reaching much higher than my chin. That made her about 5'1 if I had to make a guess. I always thought she looked a lot like Two-Bit with her rusty-brown hair and clever, comical eyes but looking at her now, I realized she looked a whole lot more like Annie. Mrs. Mathews peered up at me with a good-natured suspicion and she said quite plainly,

"I feel right as rain, sweet pea. How are you? Darry taking good care of you, I reckon. You seem to get bigger each time I see you! Come in, come in - why are we standing out on the porch?" She looked bewildered for a moment, and then laughed. She ushered us inside, chatting away the whole time.

I nodded along with whatever story Mrs. Mathews was rattling off as I sat down on the couch, but I couldn't help but feel antsy again. It wasn't like I was expecting her to collapse right then and there, but I think not knowing about the disease made me nervous.

"Ponyboy?"

Darry's voice brought me back to reality and I looked at him, a little embarrassed. "Yeah?"

"You could go with Mrs. Mathews to go grocery shopping, right? Help carry bags maybe?" Darry said this to me with a hard stare, like it wasn't a question even if it looked like one. I didn't really appreciate him thinking that I'd ever say 'no' to that, though. Of course I'd help them.

"Sure," I said, trying to sound bright about it. It came out sounding shaky though. "No problem." Mrs. Mathews smiled.

"You boys are such dolls. I'm not sure how I'll be able to thank you enough -"

"It's not a problem Mrs. Mathews." Darry waved off her thanks. "You've been there for us, too. Where's Two-Bit? I told him I'd show him a few places I know of that have job openings before I have to be in for work."

Just as Darry said that, Two-Bit came into the living room, dressed but very tired looking. He saw us on the couch and nodded. "Hey, y'all." He managed a small grin, and then turned to Mrs. Mathews, who was easing her way out of the chair. "Ma, you need help?" He came over to her, and grabbed her gently by the arm.

"I'm alright, Two-Bit," she said firmly, but still gripped onto Two-Bit's upper arm anyway. He looked at her cautiously, slowly helping her up. I wanted Mrs. Mathews to be okay. I wanted it so badly - maybe even as much as I wanted Sodapop to be okay. I could see that Two-Bit needed her just as much as she needed him right now, and it made me sick thinking of what could happen to her. I made a mental note to check it up at the library when I got done shopping with her.

"Mom!" a voice called, and I heard footsteps as a young girl came into the living room, clad in pajamas. "Mom? Did you go to the Laundromat yet, because I need more br - " she cut off her sentence when she saw me and Darry sitting there. "Oh."

"Annie, you know Ponyboy and Darry, say hello." Mrs. Mathews smiled cheerfully, and quickly glanced at Two-Bit. They both bit their lips, grinning. Apparently the incident from a few days ago was still fresh on their minds.

"I know them," Annie said flatly. "Hi Darry. Ponyboy."

"Hello, Annie," Darry said at the same time as I said "Hey, Annie."

"Two-Bit, we better get going. I still have to make it into work by nine," Darry said, breaking the brief silence. He seemed as embarrassed as I felt.

Two-Bit nodded and smiled tiredly at my brother. "Thanks Darry. I really appreciate it." He turned to his Mom and sister. "Ma, will you be alright?" Mrs. Mathews nodded. "How about you, Annie?" Annie nodded too, and moved to sit down on the chair.

It got quiet for a minute, and only then did I realize that they were staring at me. I looked at Two-Bit, who had cocked an eyebrow looking curiously at me. "Hey, Pony - you got a minute?"

"Sure," I told him, and walked out the door with him and Darry.

"So . . . uh, Darry told you?" Two-Bit asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," I said hoarsely. "Look, Two-Bit . . . I'm real sorry about everything. I didn't know."

Two-Bit just swatted me on the shoulder playfully. "Don't worry about it kid. I haven't been a picnic lately, either. Honestly, I'm just glad I didn't have to tell you."

Darry nodded. "I didn't know if you wanted to be the one to tell him or not," he said apologetically.

Two-Bit shrugged. "I didn't do too well the first time with you, did I Superman?"

Darry grinned. "You did alright."

"So what is it, anyway?" I asked Two-Bit before I could help myself. "This disease ... Pagut's or something?"

"Paget's," Two-Bit answered quickly. "It's usually found in guys, but I guess women can get it. It's some bone disease ... way the doctors described it to us, apparently it's usually found in old people." He looked down for a minute and bit his lip. "She's on some medications now. They gotta keep looking close at her 'cause they caught it a little late. Apparently it's been goin' on for around a year now, 'cept she wasn't itching on goin' to any doctor or nothing." He paused. "She'll be fine, but those bills sure aren't doin' much for her."

I felt bad right then, and it didn't have to do with Two-Bit or his mom being sick. I felt bad because I was using their _money _today, which sounds stupid I know because it was for their _food_, not anything dumb, and certainly not anything _I'd_ use, but I felt bad all the same. I felt like helping them spend their money somehow contributed to them losing it. It sounds dumb, I know.

"Oh," I said finally and Two-Bit laughed. The sound surprised me and I flinched a little.

"Never thought the day would come when I'm smarter than Ponyboy Curtis in something" he grinned, and jabbed Darry in the ribs.

Darry smiled a tight smile. "Gosh, Two-Bit, if you knew my brother as well as I did then you'd know that the first thing he's gonna do after he helps your Mama go shopping is head to the library to take out five books on this."

I was a little shocked that Darry got it right. I guess he did pay attention after all. Two-Bit shrugged. "That's true, I guess. Hey, mind taking Annie with you, Pone? She's been meaning to go the library, but I don't really like her walking alone and no one goes with her."

There was a lot of things Two-Bit was, and not all of them were real great things, but I could tell he really cared about his kid sister – he was one good older brother. "Sure thing, Two-Bit."

~/~

"Are you sure you're alright to drive, Mrs. Mathews?" I asked politely as we made our way uptown, to the local grocery.

"Of course," she sniffed, and then peered at me in the passenger's seat. "Ponyboy Curtis, are you even old enough to drive?"

I had gotten my permit license recently, and though I probably shouldn't be driving as much as I did, I was a good driver. Even Darry said so. And besides, I usually only drove places to run errands for Darry. Most times I just walked wherever I needed to go. "Um . . ." I started, wondering how to word it.

I waited too long. "Exactly," Mrs. Mathews said. Annie chuckled from the backseat, and I took a quick glance at her. She turned away quickly and looked out the window. She had volunteered to come right before we left the house. It made me feel better; I'm not sure what her presence did exactly, but it felt less intimidating with another kid along.

When we finally got there, Mrs. Mathews was already talking about what she needed to both Annie and me. She dictated it real smoothly, and we all got done in about thirty minutes. It was barely 8:30 by the time we were done. Darry usually went food shopping around the afternoon on Fridays - I made a mental reminder to tell him we should start going on Saturday. It seemed cheaper than the weekdays; I guess people needed to get rid of the stuff to make room for fresh food on Monday.

I helped carry the bags to the car with Annie's help. She was real strong for a thirteen-year old girl. I was surprised to see her carrying nearly as much as I was. And then I made sure to take more bags inside when we got back to their house.

"Thank-you so much, darlin'," Mrs. Mathews gushed as soon as we made it home. "You're such a dear, Pony. Come here, sit down for a minute and have something." I helped put away the groceries into cupboards and the fridge. I was looking around at the small, homely kitchen. It seemed cleaner, and that made it seem bigger.

I was getting so relaxed that I was thinking that us greasers didn't have it so bad maybe. You didn't need a lot to get by, after all. I kept thinking on this, and then I heard a loud shriek come from the living room. I dropped what I was putting away and sped to the next room, my heart pounding the whole time.

**

* * *

**

Hi there cliffhanger! Long time no see! :D

Happy August 13th (Friday the 13th no less!), my readers. Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	14. Bonding Time

**(author's note):**

Okay. Bummed out that not too many people were around to see my epic cliffhanger, but ... y'know here it is. This was supposed to be up yesterday; the 'rents kicked me out of the house though, so ... uh, yeah? :D

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own 'The Outsiders', Hinton does. No song lyrics right now; I'm sure you're all ... heartbroken. Lots of love to **divine energy**, guys! ~

Here it is. :-)

* * *

"What, what?" I asked, running into the living room. "Is everything alright?"

Annie covered her mouth, her face flushed. "I'm alright. It's just . . . " She grinned weakly. "There's a mouse. I'm sorry I screamed. It startled me."

I breathed out a sigh of relief, but I couldn't help feel a little annoyed. A _mouse_? "It didn't hurt you, did it?" I came over to her, and put my hand on her shoulder.

"No, no, I'm fine." She was blushing furiously now. I could understand that. I hated getting scared over silly things. Heck, I hated getting scared at all.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I told her, smiling. "I'm not a huge fan of mice either. I found one on my bedside table one time when I was turnin' off a light. Scared the devil outta me."

She laughed softly. "I know. But I shouldn't get so worked up about stuff."

"I know how you feel," I muttered. She glanced at me curiously, and I changed the subject. "Hey, I was gonna head over to the library. You wanna come?"

Her face brightened. "Oh, that'd be great. I have books I need to return anyway." She turned then, but kept looking down at her feet, gingerly putting her foot down every time. Looking out for mice, I guess. I sat down on the couch and sighed. Mrs. Mathews poked her head in from the kitchen.

"What in the lord's name was that sound?" she hooted, her accent coming on thick. "I thought someone was hurt! Where's that girl of mine? She knows better than to be hollerin' like that..."

"There was a mouse, Mrs. Mathews," I told her apologetically, and then smiled. "I'm sorry. I won't scream like that again."

She regarded me for a moment, and then burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. "Ponyboy, you are just the nicest boy on the planet. Heck, I'd give you my daughter's hand in _marriage_ if you asked!" She continued laughing, just as Annie came in, looking at her mom like she had three heads.

"Ma? _What _did you just say?" She was glaring a bit, and their resemblance had all but disappeared.

"You'd marry Ponyboy in a heartbeat, wouldn't you? Isn't he a doll?"

"_Mom,_" Annie gasped. "You shouldn't say . . . I mean, that's just completely . . . _Mother_!"

Mrs. Mathews stopped and grinned apologetically at Annie, who was getting real upset. I could feel my face on fire now. I wished I could sink into the floorboards. "I'm sorry, sugar - I didn't mean to embarrass you." She turned to me. "My daughter's so sensitive - I can tease Two-Bit like this; I keep forgetting she won't take it."

"Uh . . . that's alright," I said slowly. "C'mon, Anne. The library's about a half hour walk away. We should probably get going."

I knew it was coming, but I couldn't help flinch at the look on Mrs. Mathews face when I said that. She looked as happy as a kid on Christmas morning. "You have fun, darlin'. I'll be home."

Annie sighed, and marched to the door. "Alright, let's go," she mumbled, her face still pink.

We walked out onto the sidewalk, and it was awkwardly quiet for a minute. Annie kept staring straight ahead, before sighing. "I'm sorry about that, Ponyboy."

"What?" I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Oh, hey. Don't worry about it or nothin'."

"It's just so annoying," she burst out. "Two-Bit and my mother both _always _do that to me."

"Aw, c'mon Anne," I said, feeling bad for her, but also not wanting to insult my buddy or his sick mother. "She didn't mean nothing, I know that. That's just the way she is. Same with Two-Bit."

"I know, but gosh ... I wish they wouldn't say stuff like that to people." She paused. "I wish I didn't let it get to me so much. They do it because it don't bother _them_ none when people say stuff like that, but it bothers me. I hate that."

"Yeah . . ." I trailed off, because how many times had I wished that I didn't let stuff get to me? I can't count the times I wished I was like Darry, cool as ice. But then I remembered what Sodapop had said, about not caring about that stuff. How you end up like Dallas; unable to act like a human anymore, and having violent bursts of emotion come out at dangerous times - and how that ends up getting you dead. Or worse. I knew Two-Bit wasn't gonna go ahead and kill himself like Dally, and Darry sure wouldn't either. But it worried me that Annie wanted to care less.

"But it's not a bad thing, caring about what people think of you," I told her, trying to cheer her up. I'm not sure how much of that I believed. Maybe we'd all be better off like Two-Bit, not caring if people marked you lousy because you're a greaser, or not worrying so much about stuff. "I mean, we all kinda need each other to get along, right? If we didn't listen to people and try to improve, we'd all stay the same."

Annie nodded. "I guess you're right. Y'know, you're real smart."

"Uh, thanks . . . I guess," I mumbled. I didn't like getting compliments a lot, which was odd because I tried so hard to prove myself to everyone. I guess a lot of stuff like that didn't make much sense.

"So, what're you reading before this?" I asked her. She looked up at me, and smiled.

"I was reading some romance story before. I'd like to get out this one book that my teacher recomended to me. It's by John Knowles - _A Separate Peace_? I read something like it before, but I didn't understand it. My teacher said this one would be easier."

"I read that," I answered. "It's real good. What did you read before then?"

"_Catcher In The Rye. _I got so angry with it. I didn't understand it at all. I talked to my teacher about it, and she said I'd like this better. I hope."

"Really?" I asked her, surprised. "I really liked that book. Holden was such an odd kid, wasn't he? I liked that you didn't know what he was gonna do - I hate it when it gets so predictable."

"Hmm. She warned me that I wouldn't get it. I had to see for myself, though."

I nodded. "I did that one time, with my brother's book. _The Carpetbaggers_, I think. I didn't understand that at all."

"Oh, really? I wouldn't know about that. My brother doesn't read." She laughed. She seemed to be a lot older than thirteen, and I felt comfortable talking to her. Maybe I was less intimidated by her because she was just my buddy's kid sister, and maybe it was because she wasn't extremely good-looking, and maybe it was because she didn't seem to like most of the things greaser girls liked. Whatever it was, I liked talking to her a lot.

We talked for about five minutes after that, and then it fell back into a silence. It was a bit awkward walking around like that, and I almost started to think about what people might be seeing us walking together but I shooed away those thoughts pretty quickly. I turned to Annie. "So, uh . . . how's your mom feeling?"

She frowned at me. "She's . . .fine, I guess?"

"Oh, I know that." I blushed, feeling a little stupid. "I mean how do _you _think she is?"

Annie regarded me for a moment and then sighed. "I wish she'd stop working so hard, but I guess she has to. She's been in a bad mood lately. Says she blames herself for waitin' so long. And she's always fightin' with Two-Bit."

"Really?" I asked, shocked. "She's the happiest person I know right now, which isn't sayin' a lot I guess."

Annie rolled her eyes and laughed. "It's because she _adores _you. Well, all of your brothers too, I guess. Next to keepin' Two-Bit out trouble, y'all are her next big project. She feels so bad after what happened to your folks."

I looked at her a little shocked. I didn't know Annie too well, but I always knew she was quiet. Mousy. The exact opposite of Two-Bit. But I could see there was a lot of other things about her I didn't know before. I could tell that she probably was lonely, with her mom working all the time and Two-Bit never being around either. She probably missed her dad, just as much as I missed my paretns, but at least I had Darry. I didn't mind her talking about it as much as I did other people who brought it up.

"Yeah," I sighed. "My mom always liked your mom a lot. She'd always say that." Annie just nodded. I was never really sure of why my mom never saw Mrs. Mathews, or had her over like she'd sometimes do with her other friends when she wasn't too busy. I figured it was a girl thing, but I never understood it. And even after my parents died, and friends would come and say how sorry they were, Mrs. Mathews was really the only one who kept up with checking in on us, and the best way she knew us was through Two-Bit; no other connection, really. Girls sure are strange.

We walked along a bit longer, and finally made it to the library. It wasn't a real big building from the outside, but it was still a lot nicer than some of the buildings from the East side and I always felt a little strange walking to the library. That's probably why I didn't go very often and just relied on books in the house.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you later . . .?" I told her, and motioned to the building. "I mean, when you wanna leave I'll walk you home, so just find me." She nodded, not really listening anymore as she made her way up the stairs into the library.

"Right," I sighed under my breath. "Girls sure are strange."

~/~

The library crowd was pretty scarce - as it usually is on a weekend - save for a few old people reading newspapers or kids getting a start on their homework. I always felt a little out of place in the library. Mostly middle class kids worked here, so it wasn't too bad, but people would glance at me sometimes, usually just curiously, but it still didn't make me feel too hot.

Two librarians sat at their desks. One of them was a young woman, real pretty with long black hair in a tight bun. She kinda reminded me of the main character, Carol, from _Main Street. _The other one was an elderly lady who looked like a bird and looked like she would bite your hand off if you got too close.

I couldn't find Annie - not that I was looking for her - and instead went up to the younger librarian. Truth be told, I had never even opened up a medical book, forget knowing where they were in the library. "Uh, 'scuse me?" I mumbled to her, and she looked up from taping cards to the back of books.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper, looking a little surprised. "Can I help you with something, uh ... young man?" She scrutinized me, and I faltered a bit under her stare.

"Uh ... d'you know where I could find er - medical books?" I whispered sheepishly, and she chuckled. I clenched my jaw, wondering what she wanted me to call the blasted books. 'Medical books' sounded alright to me.

"Well, what kind are you looking for exactly?" she replied articulately.

"What d'ya mean?" I frowned. "Oh, well ... I guess one that defines diseases would work."

"Hmm." She thought on it. "Well, I'm not sure what we have in stock exactly, but uh ... "

"I can help you, young man," the elderly looking librarian said. She was rolling a cart of books, and she crooked her finger at me. "Come with me."

"Er ... thanks, anyway," I mumbled to the black-haired librarian, who had ducked her head again and didn't answer. I followed the other one to the reference section of the library.

"Now," she started explaining in a patient tone, "I don't think we have very much on medical books. You would do much better at one of the university libraries ... However, we do have a few dictionaries with us. What are you looking for, exactly?"

"Uh ... I need to look up a disease, ma'am," I explained. "School project," I said quickly. I didn't really want to get into detail about it.

"Ah, alright then. I wasn't sure what to think." She smiled at me, winking one of her beady eyes. She had a head of short ginger hair, and was about as tall as me. "I see you around sometimes, though not lately. You have quite a wide reading range, young man."

I was confused. I hardly ever came to the library and stay. I'd usually check out a few books and leave quickly. It was funny that she'd remember me. "Oh, well ... no. I like reading fiction more than uh, medical dictionaries." She handed the big green book to me, and smiled.

She nodded her head knowingly, still with that patient smile. "Of course. It's just nice seeing young people in the library. I'm afraid books aren't as captivating as they once were. Kids would rather go out fighting and racing and lord knows what else ..." I was getting uncomfortable - she seemed like the type to ramble.

"Well, thanks," I said quickly.

"Of course. Anytime, hon," she said cheerfully.

I took the big book with me to an empty desk, and opened it up. Just as I did, I heard a familiar voice,

"Ponyboy?"

* * *

**You shouldn't blame me. Blame my beta reader. She said I shouldn't have more than 2,500 words per chapter and it just so happened to end here.**

**...**

**KIDDING. Just uh ... ::ahem:: kidding, Dee. :D **

**I'm starting school again soon, so expect updates on weekends ... Yes, expect them, dammit! And what's with FF eating my page breaks? Oh, lawdy ... my life's complex. **

**Happy August 29th, my readers. Review, flame critique - do what you must, and do it well. **


	15. While I'm Gone

**(author's note):**

Okay, so first week back at school! Exciting, yes. Of course, I got swamped with homework the FIRST day, but now I have no homework for the weekend! Huzzah for nerds with no lives. :) Oh, but I did get in trouble for going over on texting minutes. Ooops. I'm only saying that because it's the first ... girly thing I've actually done in a while. But yeah, here it is. I want you to be merciful to our female in this chapter - she really can't help herself, I know. We're all girls; think in her shoes, okay?

(**disclaimer):**

Woo. Long list today. I don't own _Outsiders_, Hinton does. I don't own the passage from _Stedman's Medical Dictionary _... Stedman does, I guess? And because my beta reader drives me bananas (love you, Dee), I have to say: Yes, those are the actual words in the book. Gawd.

I don't own the lyrics. Goo Goo Dolls own. Don't deny it. x)

* * *

x- What's the point in all this screaming?  
You're not listening anyway. -x

* * *

I turned around. "Oh. Margaret. Hi," I said casually, nodding at my English partner. She smiled at me brightly, and gestured to the book in my hand.

"Getting your homework done early, I see?" She clutched her own book to her chest, her bouncy auburn curls pulled back in some loose ponytail. She was pretty too. I felt so frazzled. When had girls started getting so cute?

"Oh, uh ... yeah," I told her. "I better get it done now - 'sides, I was in town and everything."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Right. Of course." She beamed, and looked over her shoulder to someone. "I'm actually here with a friend. We're studying for those exams coming up. You ready for English?"

I shrugged. "I hope so. I also gotta do that paper Mr. Allen asked for." I shifted uncomfortably. We were just chatting, but I could tell it was getting awkward. I wonder if she felt that way, too.

"Oh, tell me about it." She rolled her eyes, looking bemused. "I have a friend in another class of his, and she thinks it's ridiculous. I mean, we've been in class for half a year, and we've only _done _a few writing activities. I don't think it makes any sense."

"It doesn't," I agreed. "I'm not sure - I was thinkin' of just re-writing one of them and making it real bad to show how I've _matured _as a writer this year." I chuckled. She giggled too.

"Oh, that actually sounds like a really good idea. I should try doing that." She paused. "I actually enjoy his classes though. I like all the writing he makes us do. I know none of my friends do, but ... well." She smiled. "I just wish I was better in English."

"You're good," I told her reassuringly. In all actuality, I had no idea how she was in that class. I guess I never really thought of it before.

"Nah." She shook her head. "Not as good as ... well, _you _for example." I felt my cheeks get warm, and I shook away her compliment.

"Margaret?" A dark-haired girl was walking up to us, looking down at a book. "Margaret, I _thought _you were going to go ask the librarian where to find copies of these books."

"Oh, I'm sorry Cathy. I got caught up talking to my English partner - "

"Ponyboy," Cathy finished for Margaret, looking at me. "Yeah, I know. We've met." She didn't seem too thrilled about it though - strictly professional.

She kept looking at me, her gray eyes solemn. If my cheeks were warm before, they must've been on fire now. "Cathy. Hi."

"Hmm." She smiled coyly. "Just as quiet as ever," she whispered conclusively, as if she was done sizing me up. She turned to Margaret, who looked a little shocked. "Would you like me to go do it? She _is _kind of scary looking, I'll admit it." Her tone suggested that she was teasing Margaret, but she didn't catch it. She nodded at Cathy, grinning relieved.

"Oh, would you? You're such a doll, Cathy. She was spooking me as soon as we walked in ... " She lowered her voice so we both had to lean in. "She just kept starin' at me. It gave me the creeps." I could see Cathy suppressing a laugh, and she bit down on her lip.

"Yeah, of course." I felt both relieved and a little disappointed to see her leave. But then she turned around again, and - looking a little nervous - said to me, "Ponyboy? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

I turned away from Margaret, who smiled at me once more. "I'll go save our seats, okay Cathy?" she whispered loudly. Cathy nodded. I walked with Cathy up to the library.

"Oh, there's another librarian here," Cathy said approvingly, looking at the black-haired librarian from before.

"Naw," I said, my voice breaking on the word. "That black haired librarian is the nasty one. The older one ..." I jerked my head at the old lady who had commented on me being here sometimes, "she's real nice. A little odd, but not unlike your grandma or somethin'." Cathy raised her eyebrows.

"Oh. She seemed a little strange when we walked in, but I don't mind." She smiled again, that small coy one from before. "Margaret, however, has lived a more ... sheltered life, I suppose. She gets frightened very easily. Though, I suppose it's alright. Her boyfriend might be going to 'Nam. Can you imagine how awful that is?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "Yeah, I can."

She shook her head, as if waking out of a daze. "But anyway," she said briskly, "that's not what I wanted to talk about. I was just wondering ..." I felt my stomach clench, and as stupid as it sounds, I clung onto her next words. "... if you knew what was going on with Mark," she finished quickly.

"Huh?" I asked, confused a moment. "Oh, what do you mean?"

She straightened her back, looking determined. "He's just been acting odd lately. I'm not sure if Bryon notices or not, but I do." She paused. "And I care about Mark for Bryon's sake. I don't want him to get in trouble, because I know Bryon will do anything to make sure Mark doesn't get hurt, even if it hurts him." She exhaled deeply, as if she'd been holding her breath. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say that." She grinned at me.

Wow, I thought dazedly. It was the exact same thing with Cathy as it was for Mark. Mark put up with Cathy for Bryon's sake, and Cathy didn't like Mark a whole lot either. I knew then that there would be nothing I could do if Mark really _was _in trouble. I knew that Bryon would stop at nothing to help his brother - there wasn't a whole lot I could do to change that.

"I don't know anything, Cathy. I'm sorry," I told her and she frowned. "I mean, I - I'd tell you if I could, honest. Mark's my buddy, I don't want to see him hurt. But you're right. If Mark's in trouble, Bryon's going to get him out. I can't do nothing about that."

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply again. "Okay," she said a little downcast. "Thanks for listening, anyway. I know you're good friends with Mark, and that's mostly why I came to you. You seem different too. I can't really explain it, I guess. Will you tell me if you find anything out? Or at least try to help Mark?"

I nodded. "Of course." I actually felt a little mad right then, but it was only a first reaction to it. She didn't care if Mark dragged_ me _down, but if Bryon got in trouble, that would just be unbearable. I sighed. What was wrong with me? Mark was my buddy - of course I'd help him if I could. I wasn't feeling jealous because of a girl. I knew the rules. Buddies first, girls second.

She surprised me then by giving me a hug. "Thank you, Pony." I hugged her back, awkwardly. I saw Annie coming up from behind Cathy, and - before I could stop myself - I called out, "Anne!" She cocked an eyebrow just like Two-Bit does, and looked amused.

Cathy jumped back, and looked behind her at Annie. "Oh, hello there." She turned to me, looking unsure.

"Pony," Annie said, looking bemused, "I was just looking for you. You just seemed to disappear." I bit my lip.

"Oh, well I was talking to some friends," I said. I turned to Cathy, "Uh, Cathy? This is Annie Mathews. Anne, this is Cathy Carlson."

Cathy nodded, smiling while folding her arms back together. Annie clutched her books to her chest, and smiled too. She looked down at her feet, and I did too. She had those frilly socks on that you see kids with and some sort of brown shoe. Annie and Cathy were both dressed in the same fashion, but it was only then that I realized just how striking Cathy really was. Annie was sweet-looking, but Cathy really was beautiful. And next to Annie, it only made her look prettier.

"I'm going to go find a seat to read then," Annie said slowly, still looking curiously at me and Cathy. God, she reminded me of Two-Bit right then. With the good-natured teasing that somehow made her look superior to me. I nodded.

"She's sweet," Cathy said bluntly. "I think I've seen her brother - looks a whole lot like her too."

"Two-Bit?" I supplied. "Yeah, he's a buddy of mine. Anne's his kid sister." I nodded.

"Oh," Cathy exclaimed, as if coming to a realization. "Oh, okay." She smiled a little brighter, and nodded. "I might see you around in school sometime. I don't think we have any classes together though."

I forced a smile. "Well, we might. See each other, that is. See you, Cathy."

She started to turn away, but then stopped. She looked at me seriously for a moment. "Oh, and Ponyboy? I know you didn't mean to, but don't give Margaret any ideas about ... anything."

"Eh ... what do you mean?" I answered quickly.

Cathy didn't back down, but raised an eyebrow carefully, looking stern. "I mean that she takes a lot of things very seriously. A cute boy coming up to her and talking might seem more than that. Her boyfriend's good for her - she needed him after her previous breakup." She looked shocked for a moment, then rolled her eyes, looking mad. "Damn. I can't seem to shut my mouth today. I'm sorry, Ponyboy. There's just a lot going on right now."

"That's okay," I told her. It was an automatic answer. I wasn't sure _how_ I felt. I wondered if she was regretting the 'cute' comment. I hated that word; made me feel like a stuffed animal or a doll or something. She didn't seem to think much of it. I noticed that about Cathy. She wasn't into hiding her feelings like most girls did. I liked that about her.

"Bye." She twinkled her fingers, and bounced off to Margaret.

"Bye," I said back, then let out a huge sigh, cupping my face in my hands. How dumb could I get?

I found Annie sitting on a chair near the door, but she didn't look up to see me. I figured she wanted to be left alone, and I sat halfway between her and where Cathy and Margaret were. I felt bad thinking it, but I wasn't sure how much I wanted to be seen with a thirteen year old anyway.

It wasn't like I minded Annie - I liked her a lot, in fact. I just felt weird going to her, like we were best buddies or something. Guys didn't do that with girls.

"Okay," I mumbled to myself, taking a look at the huge book labeled _Stedman's Medical Dictionary_ and opened it up. I didn't know where to even start at first. I decided to look it up under 'P' for _Paget's _first.

_Paget's - Sir James, English surgeon. 1814-1899. See P.'s abscess, cells, disease, extramammary. P. disease._

'_Well, that was helpful,' _I thought bitterly to myself. Golly, I was supposed to be the smart one, too! I didn't know what 'abscess' or 'extramammary' meant. I gnashed my teeth together, angry at whoever made these books. Why'd they have to use such big words, anyway?

I went under '_disease' _next since it told me to, and got to this:

_Osteitis Defomans; a generalized skeletal disease, frequently familial, of older persons in which bone resorption and formation are both increased, leading to thickening and softening of bones (e.g: the skull), and characterizaed by and infiltrated, somewhat eczematous lesion surronding and involving the nipple and arelo, and associated with subjacent intraductal cancer of the breast and infiltration of the lower epidermis by maligant cells. 930 cancer of the vulva arising from apocrine sweat glands. _

Damn it, I thought wearily. What did any of this mean, anyway? I looked up all the words I had a problem with, and finally pieced it together. Mrs. Mathews had a bone disease which would thicken and/or soften her bones. It could either get better, or get worse. She could become immobile. Different parts of her body could get damaged by it. She could get breast cancer, which I didn't like the sound of at all. _Cancer. _She could die in other words, and the thought made me sick.

I looked over to Annie, who was still sitting there, curled up in the chair like a cat. I didn't feel so embarrassed by her anymore. I finally noticed Margaret standing right there over my table, smiling. "Ponyboy, do you want to come sit with us? We have room at our table."

I looked over at the table, at Cathy who hadn't even looked up or noticed Margaret was gone. Maybe I would've jumped at the chance to sit with them two weeks ago, but I wasn't so sure anymore. There were a lot more important things for me to concentrate on than a girl who wasn't even mine. Who didn't even _like _me probably. I knew what was important right then. My friends, my brothers, and people like Annie or Mrs. Mathews. Or even Evie.

I shook my head. "Nah, I probably should be going anyway. Thanks though." She looked at me, unfazed, and smiled.

"Of course. Another time then."

I barely looked back when I walked up to Annie, who had _Jane Eyre _in her hand. "Hey," I whispered, tapping her on the shoulder. She looked up at me, her brown eyes looking a bit hostile.

"What?"

I patted her on the shoulder. "Wanna go check out those books and get something to eat? I'm starving."

* * *

**Happy September 10th, my readers! Review, flame, critique ... do what you must, and do it well. **

... Oh, wait. There's a new OUTSIDERS FANFICTION AWARD OUT. Go here:

www (dot) ggscawards (dot) webs (dot) com. 

If you guys want to nominate your favorite stories for a chance, I'd do it quickly - spots are filling up fast. You don't have to vote for me of course, but I would love to know who nominated me so I can thank them properly.* :)

*Woah. That sounded oddly suggestive. It ain't like that; I just wanna say 'thank-you'. Of course, you can borrow Ponyboy (until I need him for the next chapter) if you want ...


	16. Changing Times

**(author's note) ~**

Yeah, here it is. I want to point out that Mark isn't going to be in a lot of the next chapters - reasoning behind that is? He ain't the main character. Sorry to the Mark-lovers out there. Okay, it's been established: I'm in a foul mood.

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements) ~**

I don't own Outsiders, Hinton does. I don't own 'If I Die Young' by The Band Perry. THANK-YOU to Dee, the most dependable person I know. You rock, chica.

* * *

x- A penny for my thoughts? Oh, no I'll sell them for a dollar.  
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner. -x

_

* * *

_

_Ponyboy Curtis, you can't just tell me something like that and not expect to give me all the details. WHY were you with Annie anyway? I swear to God kid, you don't tell me everything that happened, I might just stow away in cargo next flight back to the States. (I might stow away back to the States anyway.) I bet Darry freaked out, huh? I know better than that though. You're a good kid - is Annie okay? Did something happen? _

_You should tell Evie that I have no idea what's going on with Steve at the moment. I tried to look for him after you gave me that letter (by the way how did you and Evie start talking? I ain't mad, just kinda curious) but we mostly stay with our platoons unless we're having a volleyball gang with some other platoon. And even then it's usually with Charlie company. There are a few people around here who'll find someone for you if you give them a little payment - I think I might do that, just to see how he is and all. _

_It's not so bad over here so I don't want you or Darry worrying nothing about it. Dar keeps asking me if I need stuff, if I'm okay, stuff like that. I hope you're not worried or nothing Ponyboy. I'd feel awful if your grades slipped or you stopped doing stuff because of me. Have you heard from Two-Bit recently? I hope he's OK. Haha, I'm glad you kept up with running in the fall, Pone. I know that we were talking about it before I left and you wanted to get a job and all, but we're OK. I'm sending money over with Darry when I get it - what am I gonna use it for anyway? Tell me though. What's an Indian Run? Is it hard?_

_Kid, don't stop telling me all this stuff. I have a feeling I'd go crazy if it weren't for the letters you and Darry send me. I miss you, Pony. Tell Two-Bit I said hi okay?_

_Love, _

_Sodapop Curtis_

"Typical boys. Of course he wouldn't have _seen _Steve since the last letter you sent."

Evie took a long drag off of her cigarette, and handed the letter back to me, rolling her eyes. It was well into December now and I had just gotten back Soda's letter. True to his word, he had sent money to Darry. And true to my word, I had showed up at the diner Evie worked at and told her about the letter. She hadn't said anything while I explained it, and then demanded I read that part of the letter.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, talking to the letter. Evie was on her break when I had come by. I would have felt weird about calling her on the phone, especially since she was still Steve's girl.

She rolled her eyes, and sighed. "I just have a feeling Soda _has _seen Steve, and is just covering for him."

I shook my head. "Soda wouldn't do that. He'd tell."

"Oh, really?" She sounded dubious, but didn't argue. I think she understood too. Maybe if they'd been back at home and Steve didn't want talk to her, Soda would've covered for him. But they were in a war, and no matter how much Soda wanted me to think it was 'OK', it was a battlefield out there, and Soda knew how important letters were over there.

"He says he's gonna find him," I said flatly. "He will."

"Hmm." She sighed dreamily now, and gave me a small smile. "It's sweet the way you look up to him, Ponyboy. But just be careful, alright?" With that, she picked up her notebook for orders, and walked over to sign back in for her next shift. She came back to me with a letter, and pushed it in my hand. "Here. I want you to put this in the letter with Sodapop. I don't care if you read it. I don't care if _he _reads it. I just want Steve to get it. That's the last time I'm writing to him if he doesn't respond with it."

I nodded. "It's okay. I won't read it."

She nodded. "Thanks, Ponyboy. Look, I have to get back to work ... but if y'know ... Soda finds anything out about him, will you tell me?"

"Sure," I said. "Hey, Evie? Why do you care so much, anyway? I don't get it." It just seemed like Steve was being a real jerk to her, and she was still clinging onto him. I didn't understand it, especially since I grew up with Steve too. I knew that he wouldn't handle this well.

She bit her lip, but smiled coyly. "I guess ..." She paused, tapping the notebook's edge on the table in front of us. "I guess it's because I love him," she said simply, shrugging.

I left a little while after that. I guess it was just that simple sometimes.

The next few days passed by without much going on. I hung out with Terry and Greg some at school - which is what I usually did. Two-Bit had gotten some job at a factory downtown, and it was about a ten minute walk from school. Sometimes I'd spend break and some of 6th period with him, and it almost felt like old times. Except I was cutting class and he was a drop out.

"Hey there, Ponyboy," he called out to me as he saw me approaching one Monday afternoon. He waved me over, and I saw he had on a pair of gray felt-like gloves a little too big for his hands. "How's it going, kid?"

"Hey, Two-Bit." I smiled at him wearily, "How's everything?"

"Hey, you don't play fair kid," he said sourly, punching me in the shoulder. "I asked you first. Got something to hide, Ponyboy?"

"Always," I laughed. "I'm alright_. Now_ how are you?"

"Well five seconds ago, I was just hauling some crates up onto this here bed. Now, however, I've discovered the meaning of life. Always the enlightening one, Mr. Curtis." He laughed again, and rubbed sweat off of his forehead. "Hey, shouldn't you be in school, kid? Last time I checked it was Tuesday."

"I have gym now, and my friend covers for me there. You can't fail gym, Two-Bit. That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, kid. And believe me, failing gym class is very interesting. Did you know that Coach Sterling wears a wig?"

"Oh, man. I don't want to know. Don't tell me," I ordered. He stopped talking, staring at me with a deadpan expression. "Okay, fine. Tell me."

We talked a bit longer, and then I left. As I was turning to leave, I said to Two-Bit, "Oh, and by the way. Two-Bit?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"You need to look at your calendar more. It's Thursday."

/~/~/~/~/

Later that same day, I ran into Mark with Greg. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

Mark glanced at me, brightening. "Hey, hey everybody. It's Ponyboy!"

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, real impressive. How're you, Curtis? Didn't see you at lunch."

"I'm good. Went to go visit a buddy of mine working downtown."

"Yeah," Mark trailed off as though calling to memory something. "You were talking about that before in class. Mathews, right?"

Greg perked up. "Mathews quit school? Ain't that something?" He whistled.

"He didn't quit," I said sourly. Maybe I felt obliged to defend Two-Bit because it was personal. I didn't feel too hot when Soda dropped out, and I didn't feel good about Two-Bit dropping out either. "He's gotta support his family. 'Sides, he's too old for school."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Hasn't stopped him from staying for, what? Six years now?" I glared at him, and he smirked at me. "What? Why do you care anyway, Curtis? You ain't dropping out anytime soon."

"Hey, lay off Williamson, alright?" Mark cut in, punching Greg in the shoulder. "You see him gettin' mad, and you don't keep running your mouth. You're asking to get socked in the face."

Greg laughed. "Right. Catch you clowns later." He punched me in the shoulder lightly, and stalked off. I was real angry right then. I knew Greg was just teasin', but he was still making me madder than a hornet. I mumbled a few curses under my breath, and Mark patted me on the shoulder.

"Hey, Curtis - Greg don't mean nothin'. He's just kinda an airhead sometimes, y'know?" Good ol' Mark. He was one of those people who could make you think they were on your side_ and_ the other guy's side too.

"Right. Whatever." I jerked him away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Wasn't gonna ask if you wanted to or not," Mark said coolly, pulling out a cancer stick. I noticed he hadn't even bothered to offer me one. Guess he knew better than to tempt me. He lit up. He didn't smoke real often, and I wondered if something was wrong with_ him. _

_"_Hey Mark," I started cautiously. "You alright, man?" I remembered what Cathy had asked me before, but I didn't want to seem like I was spying on my buddy. And if he found out it was for Cathy, I'd be dead.

His alert yellow eyes transfixed themselves on me, and they almost seemed to glow. "Why wouldn't I be?" he grumbled, his gaze never breaking.

"I, uh ..." I started feebly. "You just seem off lately. That's all."

"Well, I ain't. I'm fine," he snapped. "Y'know, everyone else is allowed to change but me, and I'm a little sick of it, to tell you the truth."

"Hey, no one's saying you can't, man," I told him. He shook the comment away with his cigarette hand.

"Never mind, Curtis. It's dumb. I'm being dumb. Just forget it, okay? Bryon's actin' weird. I guess I'm just ... actin' weird too."

"Is Bryon alright?" He was still looking at me, as though trying to read my mind.

"Aw, shoot. He's fine. Just a little shook up. We went to that trial for them goddamned losers that went and shot Charlie. Got put away for a long time, man." He laughed ruthlessly, and I almost felt scared, seeing Mark so bitter. "But ... I guess he's still upset. Hell, I am too I guess."

I nodded. "Yeah. It's never a picnic, losing buddies. I guess I understand that."

"Hell yeah, you do man." Mark punched me in the shoulder. "But everyone knows about your buddies, but what's Charlie?"

I paused, letting him continue.

"No one, man. Just another dead kid."

"Mark, I'm sorry, okay?" I mumbled. I felt bad for this Charlie guy. I was thinking about all of the kids who died in street fights, or were gunned down by cops, or sent off to jail. Maybe Johnny _was_ one of the lucky ones. No one would praise this Charlie guy for saving Mark and Bryon's life. No one would write editorials in the paper, speak about him. I tried not to notice it, but people still talked about last year. People remembered Johnny, even if they didn't call him by name. I guess I never really thought much on it. I figured it didn't really matter if others remembered them, because I did.

"Don't be sorry. It ain't your fault. You didn't shoot him in the fucking head."

/~/~/~/~/

I left Mark a little while after that. I remember wondering why he was in such an odd mood these days, but I didn't give it much thought. There wasn't a lot _to _think about after all. Mostly I figured that if Mark got into any big trouble, Bryon would be right there to help him out of it. He always did. It made me wish Soda was here again, and I thought about it on my way to class.

I ran over a list of all I had to get done that night for homework - it seemed like that's all I did anymore. Homework. It made me feel odd, thinking of how Darry nearly broke his back trying to provide for Soda and me, and I couldn't even get a lousy after-school job. Truth was, I only bothered to ask Darry once about it, and at the time we not only had Soda's paycheck, but the small amount of money saved up before Mom and Dad died that Darry kept only for emergencies.

I was thinking about those two things - Soda and a job - when I walked into English class, and sat down next to Margaret. She perked up when she saw me, "Oh, hey Ponyboy."

"Hi Margaret," I tried saying as polite as I could. Shoot, she hadn't said more than ten words to me the whole year; what had changed, anyway? She smiled at me, and then turned around in her chair to talk with one of her friends. I sighed, turning to open the book we were reading in class. Mr. Allen walked in at around that time, and started taking attendance. I stopped listening after he called my name - I always did that with attendance lists.

English passed by pretty quickly, and by the time I was walking out of the door to Chemistry class I was feeling pretty good that the day was almost over. I started walking down the hall, when Margaret walked up next to me, and stopped me for a minute.

"Ponyboy? Did you happen to get the date our composition is due? Mr. Allen didn't say ... " She blinked her hazel doe-eyes at me, and I got a little flustered. Two guys across the hall were eyeing us suspiciously.

"Oh, yeah. He said ... January 5th. After break, I - "

Just then, some guy siddled up to her and Margaret flinched as he put his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, Maggy - " She cringed. "-I was thinking we could get together this weekend, unless - " His eyes flicked to me, and I rolled my eyes, jamming my thumbs in my pockets - " ... you're busy?"

She grimaced at him. "No thanks, Ricky - but I really don't think so."

He started to protest when the two guys came over, and yanked him away. "Hey, lay off man." The taller of the guys turned to Margaret, "You okay?" He flicked his gaze to me, not looking hostile, but definitely not too friendly.

"I'm alright," she answered dazedly, like she had been holding her breath. "Just fine." She smiled at me, and let the taller of the guys take her hand. "Thanks, Ponyboy!"

The shorter one glanced at me one more time before he walked away too. I didn't think of this too much until later after school when Terry told me that Mary - as in Mary Haden, who I had been 'cozying up to a couple of weeks ago' - got knocked up and was moving to Texas and 'ain't-it-a-shame-man-she-really-digged-you-Curtis.' When I heard about Mary again, I automatically thought of the situation with Margaret. Had she been forced to do something she didn't want to do - did any guys leap to her defence when it _did _happen? Or did people not give it a second thought, thinking she was just another floozy from the East Side?

Yeah, the times had changed alright - I heard people saying that enough to finally believe it - but the people sure hadn't. Greasers were still greasers, Socs were still Socs. I should've realized; maybe if I had known, I could've saved myself a lot of trouble. Maybe things would've been different.

/~/~/~/~/

_Dear Sodapop,_

_It was nothing, Soda - honestly. It's all cleared up now, anyway. Darry probably already told you, but Two-Bit's mom is sick, can you believe it? Sure was shocking the first time he told me - he seems alright now, though. He's got himself a job at some factory, and Darry and I checked in on them on Sunday. I took Annie to the library, we went shopping with Mrs. Mathews. It was nice, I guess._

_I thought you were seeing Steve around places. What happened to that? Evie seems pretty upset over the whole thing, talking about how much she loves him and all. It's weird, considering it's Steve and all. He's probably nicer to her than he is to me though, so that's probably it. You play volleyball there? How's that? And what's Charlie company? Do they name them after their leaders or something? Tell me about different things - what are your friends like? When do you get to sleep, what do you eat in the morning? _

_Besides Two-Bit, my other friends seem to be doing fine. That one guy I used to talk about - Mark Jennings - he's been acting awful strange lately, but I think he's still shaken up over the fact that some buddy of his got killed by these Texans earlier. They're probably still sore because we ranked #8 in the states for football this year. He's still sore about it though; I don't like bringing that up (even if it's true.) Darry said something real strange to me the other day - he's saying that I'm acting more and more like you. Isn't that strange? _

_I still want to get a job, but I gotta figure out where to apply for one. It's more difficult than I thought. How'd you get your job at the DX, anyway? If you told me, I promise not to let my grades slip, honest. And don't tell Darry - he keeps telling me I shouldn't get one. _

_An Indian Run is basically when we all run in a straight line down the track. The person in the back has to run all the way to the front, and becomes the new leader. Then the next person in the back runs to the front and we just keep doing that until we go through the team. It's pretty easy. _

_Okay, Soda. You promise to keep sending letters too, okay? _

_Love,_

_Ponyboy Curtis _

_

* * *

_

Yes, it's supposed to end with Pony's letter.

Sorry for the delay. Well, no. I'm not sorry, actually. If you don't feel like reviewing, then you can take what you get I s'pose.

Happy October 5th, my readers. Review, flame, critique - do what you must and do it well.

**! EDIT !**

**Okay, here is TO ANYONE READING NOW / READ BEFORE: I have yet another special privilege to anyone who reviews this chapter, and here it is ~**

**I will tell you which character from 'The Outsiders' makes a very _shocking_ appearance in the next chapter. So, curious? Then REVIEW. :) **


	17. Familiar Faces

**(author's note):**

Yay! I made it. :) Pardon me if the chapter is a tad boring - the ending's important. It'll make up for it. I hope.

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I do not own The Outsiders. I do not own the lyrics. Hinton & Lostprophets do. As always, big mushy hug to divine energy. :)

* * *

x- And we sing, sing without a reason. To never fall in love. -x

* * *

By winter break, I was so exhausted that I did nothing but sleep the first day off from school. I had handed in all of my work on time, including two papers and the composition I finally got around to doing. I have a feeling if it wasn't for Darry nagging me every five seconds to finish my work, I wouldn't have gotten anything done. I couldn't seem to bring up enough energy to care very much about work – it all seemed pointless to me at the time.

A few days before Christmas while I was hanging out with Terry and Mark near The Ribbon, I had gotten into such a bad mood over everything, that even I noticed how weird I was acting. Some of it was about schoolwork, and how pointless I thought it was, but it was also over dumb stuff as well. Terry was talking about some girl he was taking out later, and Mark mentioned some girl he was seeing on and off. Why was I wasting my high school years worrying so much about grades – what were the chances of me getting a scholarship outta here anyway?

"Hey, Curtis – you alright? I know you're quiet and all, but geez – you a mute now or somethin'?" Terry elbowed me. We were both sitting on the hood his car as Mark sat down on the ground, his back propped up against the front of the car.

"Sure," I answered slowly, sighing. "Just glad it's winter break is all."

Terry let out a whoop. "Brother, you speak the truth. Man, am I glad I ain't gettin' up for school no more. Can't wait 'till I leave that place."

"Where you goin' afterwards?" I turned to face him, suddenly curious.

"I dunno. Probably get a job. Definitely get a job. My old man says I can't stay at home without one." He chuckled.

I peered down at Mark's head, only his wispy blonde hair visible. "What about you Mark? Got any plans?"

He didn't answer for a minute. Finally he shifted his weight on his hands, and looked up at us. "Guess not. Just keepin' it all together for now is plan enough for me." He slowly closed his eyes; they looked browner today than before. I had read somewhere that people with hazel eyes have color changes depending on their mood.

"But anyway, that's such bullshit. Makin' plans when you're this young. People gotta learn to just live for the moment is all," Mark said flatly, starting to get up. "Hey, y'all wanna check out a couple of races – thought I saw a couple'a guys itching to go at each other earlier."

"Yeah, alright." Terry shrugged. "I gotta go meet Sarah later though." Mark nodded and mumbled something about how he needed to get back to work, too.

"You got a job, Mark?" I asked. He looked at me a little taken aback. I hadn't meant to sound so surprised; he just hadn't mentioned it before.

He sighed. "Well, we'll see. I'm looking for one, for sure." I nodded.

"Yeah, me too. Tell me if you find anything, alright man?" I asked.

Mark grinned at me. "Sure thing, Curtis. I'll keep my eye open."

~/~

We were stopping at a local deli to grab something to eat, when I saw a familiar face. The first thing I saw was that hair though. That fiery red hair was almost too hard to not recognize. It was Cherry Valance.

I thought briefly of going up to say hello - it seemed like it was getting OK for greasers and Socs to be friends - but the rift we had between us was more than just a difference in social classes. We'd both lost people we cared about in the same week. For the same reason.

She saw me too though, and instead of ignoring me like she usually did, and excused herself to the person she was talking to before coming up the aisle to meet me. Mark watched me from the counter with eyebrows raised so high, they disappeared under his hair. "Ponyboy," she exclaimed when she had come up to me. I think she had gotten better looking since I last saw her. "It's been so long. How are you?"

"Hi," I said cautiously, but smiled briefly. "Hi Cherry - I'm alright, I guess. How're you?" She tucked her gloved hands under her armpits, looking unsure now.

"Oh, I'm alright too, I guess." She smiled at me. Her eyes looked tired. I suddenly wished I wasn't here with Mark and Terry. I remembered that talk we had a year ago, and I sorta missed it, to tell you the truth. "I um ... I heard about Soda." She paused. "I'm so sorry, Ponyboy. Is he alright?"

"He's okay. I think," I told her. Talking to her didn't seem to be as easy as it was a year ago. I wondered what had changed. "He writes a lot. I think he's homesick."

She bit her lip. "It's just awful," she blurted out. "I feel so bad you have to go through it, Pony. I mean, you've already had such terrible things happen to you ..."

I felt a little annoyed by her comment. It felt stupid being embarrassed by that, mainly because I _knew _how 'awful' it was. I _did _have such bad things happen to me. But I didn't want to hear it come from her. I looked back at her; she looked close to tears, and I felt bad. "Aw, shoot. I'm alright. Soda'll come home. I know it."

She smiled at me weakly. "You're such a great guy, Pony. I'm - I'm sorry I haven't talked to you since ..." She trailed off. "Well, in a while. And I wanted to ask you how you were after I heard about Soda. I even stopped by the DX a few times to see if I ran into you, or saw his other friend there - uh ... "

"Steve," I supplied, feeling an odd sort of confidence run through me. She'd _looked _for me? "And he left before Soda did."

"Oh," she whispered, tugging at the furry sleeves of her winter jacket. "Oh." It was quiet for a minute, except for people talking quietly. There was a song in the background - some new Beatles song that just came out. '_This is John Lennon here, saying on behalf of The Beatles ..._'

"So uh ... How's Randy?" I asked her. Her face crumpled, and I knew this was the wrong thing to say.

"He's ..." She sighed. "He's not doing very well at all, I'm afraid. It's just so stupid!" she cried out suddenly. I wanted to take a quick look at Mark, but decided against it. "I mean, you can't even tell the difference between a Soc and a greaser now. I mean, we have so many opportunities to have good lives, and see what we do? I don't even recognize some of the people I knew before. They're all rebelling against the system, and making their lives terrible for themselves!"

"What do you mean?" I asked quickly.

She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I used to think that booze was the worst thing a boy could get into." She closed her eyes. "I was wrong."

She cupped her face in one hand now. "I don't know where Randy is. He hardly comes to school anymore. Last thing I heard, he was headin' out to California with some big van. But who knows? Maybe he's headin' down to Alabama and protesting racial inequality. He might be headin' up to the East coast hearin' Dr. King's latest speech on Vietnam. Hey, did you know that there are 474,000 U.S. soldiers in Vietnam right now?" She shook her head. "Anyway, all I know is that he's real messed up - he's one of those seriously over-the-top liberal types. I stopped checking up on him a while ago."

I felt a little bad for Randy, but I also understood why he did it. I remember how against all the fighting he was back a year ago - I guess losing a best buddy can really change a person. I didn't see what was so wrong with it. So Randy was some sort of hippy now; I guess Cherry was one of those 'old Soc' types. The Socs had been separated into two distinct groups. I'll admit a lot more of 'em were gettin' real liberal now, wearing beat up clothes just like greasers. But I continued to see those perfectly coifed people - like Cherry. Those were the Socs who hadn't seemed to change a whole lot.

"Yeah, well ... " I turned back to look at Mark, who had been joined by Terry since I last looked. Terry was gaping like a fish, and Mark had some sort of dangerous smirk on his face that looked playfully amused at the same time. "Randy can take care of himself. I'll see you around, Cherry."

I stuck out my hand, feeling awkward. She gave me another brief smile, and gave me a quick hug instead. "Take care of yourself, Ponyboy," she whispered.

Just then a guy called out, "C'mon Cherry - let's go." I looked up to see a well-dressed guy, who seemed to be Cherry's boyfriend. She nodded, patted my hand quickly and walked out with him. "Who was that?" I heard him mutter to her, and she just shook him off. 'No one. Just a boy from school.'

Terry sped up to me, while Mark hung back, still with that bored amusement on his face. "_Curtis. _What the _hell_ was that?" He was looking at the door Cherry had just left, and he turned back to me with a stupid grin on his face. "How do you know _her_?"

"Just a girl from school," I said casually, picking up my stuff before heading for the counter. Mark said nothing about it until the guy had finished counting out my change, and we walked out of the store.

"Glad to see you're over Cathy," Mark brought up casually, his eyes never leaving mine, like he was daring me to retort.

He only had to say those words, and I felt awful all over again.

~/~

"I'm gonna go tell the doctor you're here, alright Ma?" Two-Bit stood up from the plastic chair, looking down at Mrs. Mathews, who was reading some old _Stardom _magazine with Elizabeth Taylor on the cover, _'THINGS LIZ CAN'T FORGET.' _She didn't look up to say to respond. "That'd be nice, sugar. Thanks."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes, catching my glance before grinning amusedly. "_Girls_," he mouthed. I smiled back, looking over at Annie, who also had some magazine in her hands, though she wasn't reading it quite as intently as Mrs. Mathews was. She caught Two-Bit, and glared. "I saw that, Two-Bit."

"And I'm frightened, munchkin," he shot back, winking. He walked away, and I sighed, sinking into the uncomfortable chair.

"You didn't have to come with us, Ponyboy," Annie pointed out, looking guilty. "It must be awful boring for you ..."

"Nah." I shrugged. "'Sides, Two-Bit said the tests might take a while. If they do, I gotta take you home." Annie grimaced.

"It's winter break! I can't even stay up late with my _sick _mother on a holiday?" She sighed impatiently, sinking into the seat too. Mrs. Mathews peered over her magazine.

"Anne Mathews, you sit up right now young lady! We're in public, and I won't have my daughter slouching like a thug." She glanced at me, who had almost the same position as Annie. "No offense of course, Pony." She turned to Annie, who had sat up, looking distasteful. "Young ladies need to sit up straight, missy."

"Yes Mama," Annie mumbled.

I glanced at the clock, seeing it was after 6. It'd been a few hours since I stopped at the deli with Mark and Terry. I was hungry. "Hey, I'm gonna go get something to eat." I turned to Annie. "You wanna come?"

She peered at her mother, who nodded. "Of course. Here, just a mo' ..." She dug through her purse, giving a dollar to Annie. "I want _change, _Annie. Get something for your brother too, alright? And be careful what you buy - these hospitals practically rob with the prices for some of the stuff they sell." Annie nodded, getting up with me. She smoothed out her skirt.

"Okay, Mama. _Okay._"

We walked down the hall. "Now where are those stairs?" I grinned at Annie, who still looked glum. "Hey, cheer up Annie. What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Nothin'. I just hope Mama's alright."

"Me too," I told her. She looked at me, a little surprised. "Me too."

~/~

I had forgotten that Cathy worked at the hospital's cafeteria, so I couldn't have been more shocked when I saw her clearing up tables. Or more unprepared. I quickly brushed a hand through my hair, and inconspicuously tucked my shirt-tail into my jeans. Cathy didn't seem to notice us, and I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Hey, isn't that your friend, Ponyboy?" Annie asked bluntly. I groaned to myself. I liked Annie - she was a sweet kid - but that wasn't the way I really wanted to greet Cathy.

Cathy glanced up at us, a little shocked, but waved, looking mighty nervous. "Hi there, Ponyboy. And ...?" She trailed off, waving her hand at the air in front of her, like she was trying to push the name towards her.

"Anne," Annie supplied. Cathy nodded.

"Right. Anne. Can I get you two anything?" Cathy paused, and then rolled her eyes. "Well, of course I can, I guess. That's why you're here, right?" She laughed nervously.

"Right," I croaked out. The first thing I said to her, and I sound like a thirteen year-old kid in the middle of puberty. _Real smooth there, Curtis. _

_"Actually _Ponyboy," Annie broke in. "I have to use the restroom, so could you just get something for me an' Two-Bit? I'm not real hungry, but Two-Bit probably is. He came straight here from work."

She left us, and I ordered. Cathy put it all down in her little notebook. "I'll bring it right out," she mumbled.

I sat down at a booth, cupping my face in my hands. That couldn't have been more uncomfortable. She obviously didn't care very much to see me, but what was I supposed to do? I hadn't remembered that she worked here. I was such a moron sometimes. "Hey, mind if I sit?" I looked up to see Cathy. "It's gettin' ready right now." I blinked, confused. "Your food, Ponyboy. Your food."

"Oh. Sure." I gestured to the opposite side of the booth. She leaned an arm on the table, cupping her chin with a hand.

"I'm sorry if this isn't appropriate. Me, sittin' here with you," she apologized, sighing heavily. "I never know what to do anymore when I'm with a guy who's not Bryon. I figure we sorta know each other though, so it's alright, right?"

"Yeah, it's fine." I nodded. "I won't tell Bryon." Shit. Way to make her feel like this is a _bad _thing, Curtis.

She just chuckled though, and played with a straw wrapper on the table. "So uh ... who're you here to see?"

"My friend's mom. She's sick."

She nodded, still playing with the wrapper. "That's too bad. I'm sorry. Bryon's mom was sick recently too. He was real worried, but she's alright now."

"Oh," I stated dumbly. "So ... how's your break been going?"

She smiled. "Alright. I've been working a lot though. I try to stay away from home. Dad keeps fighting with my little brother to cut his hair."

"How is he? M&M, I mean."

She smiled, and started going off on a tangent about how good he was in school, and what kind of stuff he reads. She talked about how well he got along with Bryon, and the only reason she knew Bryon was through M&M at first. "He's such a great kid. I love him so much." We started talking for a while after that, her about Bryon and her old school, me about looking for a job, and track.

Suddenly she asked me, "Do you have any siblings, Ponyboy?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Darry's, he's the oldest and he's my guardian. Soda ... " She smiled at his name. "... Soda's in 'Nam right now." Her face fell, and she bit her lip again. Golly, she was pretty.

"I'm sorry, Ponyboy," she whispered. "I can't imagine how that feels."

I nodded too, and we sat in silence for a minute. She seemed uncomfortable again, and shifted in her seat. "So ... uh, I think your orders are done." Annie came back by that time, and Cathy turned to us before heading into the kitchen. "Do y'all want me to wrap 'em up for you to go?"

"That'd be swell, thanks," Annie put in quickly. She looked at me. "Well, I mean for _me. _Pony might want to stay." She glanced at me knowingly, but I shook my head.

"Naw, I better get going - Two-Bit'll be wondering where we are." Annie nodded, and Cathy left then.

"You're sure?" Annie asked curiously, cocking an eyebrow. I sighed, but nodded anyway, smiling.

"Y'know ... " Cathy mumbled, looking at me as she handed the food over. "I - I _could _ask my boss if there's a job opening here. He mentioned wanting a busboy for the weekends 'n all. I mean, if you're interested in working _here. _And I'm not even sure - "

"I mean, it might not happen," I put in quickly. "I get that, but that'd sure be great. Of you to ask, I mean. I'm just asking around a whole bunch of different places."

"Yeah, yeah." She bobbed her head, her bangs moving with her nodding. "I mean, I think Bryon's working down at a supermarket. I could ask him too if you want - I'm sure he knows somewhere you could get a job."

"Uh, maybe. Maybe." I nodded, grinning tightly. "I'll see you around, Cathy."

"See you, Ponyboy."

I walked with Annie back upstairs to Mrs. Mathews and Two-Bit thinking that the day hadn't been such a bust after all.

~/~

"Uh ... Pony?" Darry asked me later that night as he walked through the front door. "Did you ... did you write to Soda twice or somethin'?"

"No, why?" I looked up from my book, frowning.

"Well, you got a letter here ... and it's thicker 'n usual too." He flipped it in his hand, looking baffled. He shrugged, handing it over.

"What?" I felt my heart quicken as I tore open the letter. What could be so important that Soda couldn't wait to tell me? With Darry looking curiously at the envelope, two separate messages fell into my lap. I recognized Soda's messy scrawl immediately on the first one. But the second one ...

The second one wasn't my brother's handwriting. Not even close.

* * *

**(author's note):**

Hmm. :) What happened?

**Happy October 10th, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.**

(Holy hell, FF sees all! I badmouthed it in this here author's note, and it deleted the last part of my chapter. (!) Creepeh.)


	18. Go With Your Gut, Kid

**(author's note):**

Long story short, I'm an idiot. I had this sitting around for a week before I realized my beta reader had already editted it. I'm getting another chapter up this weekend too, so that'll be nice for you guys, right?

Oh, and when reading the last part, do keep an open mind. I know, it's cheesy. I'm a cheese monster. They'll make fondue out of me, but that's OK.

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own The Outsiders, Hinton does. I don't own the lyrics; the Rolling Stones do though.:) Oh, and not important, but I also formatted all the other chapters; made their page breaks the same, and formatted the lyrics all in the same fashion. It's quite nice now.

Thanks to _divine energy _again! :)

* * *

x- Well, we all need someone we can lean on  
And if you want it, you can lean on me. -x

* * *

I decided that to read Soda's letter first, even if the suspense of the other letter was killing me. My mind jumped to the worst possible thing, which would've been someone notifying us - the family - if Soda was hurt. Or something else.

_'Dear Ponyboy,_

_I haven't gotten the response to your letter yet so this isnt really an anser to your letter that (I hope) you sent me already. If this doesnt get to you by Christmas, then Merry Christmas, kiddo! I wish I was there, or could at least send you something. But anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I _did _contact Steve, like I said I would and he was being pretty moody over the whole situation. _

_He said something about breaking up with Evie in some letter, but she won't stop writting to him. I wasn't really paying atention much because it sounded kind of private, but he did send over a letter with this one. He didn't really know how to tell her to leave him alone, but I figure it'd be better if she got an anser with a person there to explain and such - and you're good at that stuff right Pone? You'll explain to her. Maybe they could get back together after his year is up or something. I'm a little worried about him, but he seemed alright. I asked him if I should say anything to y'all, and he just said to say 'hi' to everyone. _

_Maybe you guys should send him a letter. I know that it's not real tuff, but a lot of the guys here get so homesick, they kinda cling onto any word from home they can. He says he gets letters from his dad once in a while and his brother sent him one too once. Mason - one of the guys here - got his sister to send me a letter and boy, was that excitin'. I'm almost forgettin' what it's like to talk to a girl close up. When the field nurses come with supplies or help, all the guys kinda just gape at 'em. But anyway, the girl's name is __Sarah, she's real pretty, she's from New York. I write to her sometimes did I tell you that? _

_Merry Christmas, Pone. Tell Darry I say hi, and to stay big and strong even though he ain't out roofing houses as much. Love you guys,_

_Sodapop Curtis_

Boy, I couldn't have been more relieved over anythin' than after I had read Soda's letter. _'He did send a letter over with this one. You'll explain to her, Pone.' _While I was real relieved to see that my brother was okay, I wasn't itchin' to be the one to tell Evie about Steve wanting nothing to do with her. I sighed, and picked up the letter from Steve, glancing at it curiously.

"So, what'd Soda want?" Darry's voice made me jump, and I quite pouring over the letter from Soda.

"He's fine," I snapped for no real reason. Maybe I was just in a bad mood, but I realized I didn't have to growl at Darry like that, especially after I saw the look on his face. He went from lookin' all worried to this sort of crumpled look on his face, like he was disappointed. "He got in contact with Steve," I said more soft - like I was apologizing. "Steve's okay though. Wanna read it?" I handed over Soda's letter to Darry, who looked eager again. I turned to look at Steve's letter - shoot, it was opened up and everything. That meant I could read it right?

_Look Eve, I'm not really sure what you want me to tell you, anyway. Sounds like you've already gone and made up your mind - you wanna go out with the guy, marry him? Fine. Maybe it's better if I know you're being taken care of - just don't keep sending me all that shit about how you still love me. I don't want to hear it. Soda told me that you're bugging his kid brother too now, and you really shouldn't keep pestering Ponyboy, alright Evie? He doesn't know anything going on with me right now, and he's got more important things to do then listen to you whine. What you need to do now is take care of yourself kid, and quit worrying about me. Go out with this guy - what'd you say his name was? Grady? What kind of fucking name is that, anyway? - do whatever you want; don't run things by me like you need my permission. _

_I meant what I said before, Evie. I love you, but I don't want you waiting for me if you don't want. I don't want you lying to me either, and not tell me about seeing some guy off the side while I'm here. You pull that kind of shit, and you end up like Soda and Sandy, only worse. He's got a new girl now too - but apparently they're just friends through some buddy of his in his platoon. Anyway, I gotta go out soon, but this letter's turning out to be pretty terrible - I'm gonna send it over with Soda's letter and I'll let the kid soften it up for you. _

_Ponyboy, don't break her heart._

_-Steve_

My first thought was on how much better Steve's grammar was than my brother's. It was a dumb thought, but my brain was processing too much at once to really understand anything. What was I supposed to tell Evie? What did I know, anyway? I was real confused. I figured the best thing to do was call Evie, and I should do it that night. I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"What's wrong with Steve?" Darry asked, jerking his head to the letter hanging loose in between my fingers.

"Nothin' important," I mumbled into my hand. "Girl problems."

"Ah." Darry raised his eyebrows, nodding. "Kind of makes me glad I don't got any of those right now." He chuckled, but he seemed a little bitter.

"Yeah ... " I said hazily. "I guess so." Darry took his gaze away from me, and nodded his head again. Did he look relieved, or was that just my imagination runnin' all wild again? "I should go call Evie, I guess. Read the letter to her ... "

I walked over to the phone, and started putting in the number. I felt a little nervous callin' her, but before I could get too uncomfortable, she picked up. "Hello?"

"Um, Evie?" I said into the phone. "It's - "

"Oh, hold on a second, young man. Evie!" the woman's voice called out. "Here she is."

"Hello?" Evie.

"Uh, hey - this is Ponyboy Curtis." I paused, and she didn't answer. "Um, Soda sent a letter today with Steve ... " I read the letter out loud to her, making sure to leave out some of the more ...accusatory parts, and tried to sum it up. "Eh - sorry, Evie."

She was quiet on the other end. I heard a sigh. Then a soft _click _of the phone on the other end.

~/~

"Hey, what about _this_?"

I looked up from the magazine I was holding, and saw Annie holding a coon hat to her head. "For Darry or Two-Bit?"

She looked thoughtful for a minute. "Hey, good point. I was gonna say my brother, but Darry could wear it too, I reckon ... "

I chuckled. "Naw, he'd never leave the house with _that. _Is this even real?" I went over to stroke the fur on the hat. It was two days until Christmas, and neither of us had been shopping for our brothers. Annie, because she really had no way of gettin' around, and me because ... well, I guess I'd let it slip my mind. Darry and I had already sent Sodapop his Christmas present - mostly just supplies he told Darry he'd like, but we all slipped in other stuff. I just hoped they'd actually get through.

She shrugged, putting it away, fingering another hat - this one a dark purple velvet. "I just wish I knew what to get 'im. I hate shopping for Christmas." She paused. "And birthdays."

"Hmmm." We had decided to go shopping together on Friday, while Mrs. Mathews was having her tests being done. The results weren't supposed to come until mid-January, and by then they'd decide whether she needed to take time off, or could keep on working. "Hey, I know." Annie looked at me, brushing away the feather on her new hat. "You could get your brother some work gloves - the ones he has now are no good."

She frowned. "Maybe ... But I think Mama's gettin' him boots or somethin'. I think he'll be awful sore if we both got him stuff for work." I sighed.

"Well, then I have nothing," I said tiredly. I liked Annie, I really did, but sometimes she just needed to take what she could get. She put down the feather hat, still looking seriously at it.

I left her to her own vices, and started to think about what to get _my _brother. I thought of maybe gettin' some record he might like, but realized I didn't know what he liked, and 'sides, our old record player didn't work too well - if we wanted to listen to something, we turned on the radio. Work supplies seemed to impersonal. I sighed.

We were walking around one of those outlet malls on the outskirts of town. I remembered going here with my parents back when I was younger. It seemed to have all these different stores around, which was good even if we _weren't _finding anything. "Maybe we should try somewhere else. I don't think either of 'em want hats anyway."

Annie nodded, but rolled her eyes. "What kind of name is _Hat World, _anyway?"

"Better question might be why did we _think _going to a place called _Hat World _was a good idea for our older brothers?" I inquired.

"Our tough, _macho _brothers," Annie added cheerfully. I chuckled lightly, to be polite. I held open the door for Annie, and we both walked out of _Hat World, _onto the next store.

~/~

We were in another store now, this one much more appropriate for both of our brothers. _Hardware. _I was scanning the aisles, looking at the different tools on display.

I really didn't have much of a clue to what some of 'em were for. Darry would've known; Dad taught him all about this stuff when he was a kid. Dad would always work on things around the house, shaking away Mama's suggestions to call a professional - Dad knew: We didn't have the money, and he could fix it up right near perfect if he put his mind to it.

Sometimes he'd let Darry help him. He'd make sure to hold up each tool, say the name, and explain what it did. He'd tell Soda 'n me to help too, that we'd need to know this stuff in the future, but I never paid much attention - I always wanted to read or draw or watching television - and now I wish I had. Not so much for being able to identify 'em or nothing, but it always made me feel bad. I'd think of all the bonding oppurtunities I could've had with my father. Oppurtunities I never took, and now were gone.

I had started thinking about my dad and Darry, and how close they'd really been. I know that my dad loved all of us, but I always did have the impression that there was some sort of special bond between those two. I felt like Darry (and maybe Soda) had proven himself to Dad, and I had never really gotten that chance. It made me awful sad, but then I thought of how Darry might be feeling. It was oddly comforting, thinking of how it might be if I could've brought Mom and Dad back for Christmas. Even if it was impossible, it was a nice thought.

I picked up something, and knew what it was right away. A pocketknife. I carefully flipped it open, nodding approvingly at it. "Hmm."

"What's that?" Annie came back with a bag in her hand.

"Er, nothing." I pushed it back in, and put the blade away. "What'd you get?"

She looked at the bag. "Oh. Gloves." She shrugged. "I don't know what else to get him." She eyed the knife cautiously.

I looked back at the shelf, this time picking up a much thicker looking blade. "Hey, what's this?" I flipped it in my hand curiously. I tried to pry open the different parts. Scissor. Knife. Corkscrew. "Hey, this is neat. It's a swiss army knife."

Annie glanced at it interestedly. "That is pretty cool, you're right." She smiled. "For ... Darry?"

"I don't know ... " I started slowly. I looked at the price tag, and felt my eyebrows jump up. "Aw, shoot - I can't afford _that_." Annie looked at it too, and grimaced.

"Well, how much more do you need?" she asked, looking mighty unsure. She glanced towards the cashier at the front, who didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Another two dollars." I grinned, but started to put it back. "Hey, it's alright - I'm sure I'll think of something else." I thought back to the other ideas I had, and stopped at one. It was a dumb idea, probably real dumb, but ...

"Well, what do you want to do?" she asked.

"We could steal it," I said with a mockingly serious stare. She gasped.

"Oh, no we could _not,_" she whispered. "That'd - " She looked at the guy at the front. "Well ... "

I was shocked. Was she actually considering it? I thought back to my idea, back to the knife. I had another really good idea, one that would involve stealin' the knife. I didn't really care anymore. I was tired of people thinking I was such a 'great guy' - the last time someone thought I was a great guy, some idiot smashed a bottle over my buddy's head. "Let's do it," I said firmly, feeling a little reckless. Her eyes widened. "C'mon. We get caught, I don't care. Let's just see if we can."

"Oh, I don't know ... " she said in a whimpering tone. She bit her lip, darting her eyes to the cashier again. "Okay, quick. Put it in the bag," she hissed.

I did, and we made sure to walk out of the aisle so the cashier couldn't see her, or the bag. "Hey, don't worry Anne. I'll find something." I shrugged. I didn't trust myself to talk anymore; I was so scared of getting caught. Why was I doing this again? To prove what to _who _exactly? She nodded, looking petrified.

We walked out the door, just as the cashier was saying, "Have a nice day, kids."

We made sure to walk until he couldn't see us no more, my heart pounding the whole time. Annie exhaled deeply, clutching her stomach. "Oh my lord that was _scary,_" she hissed to me, grabbing my forearm.

I sighed. "It's alright - we didn't get caught. That was good, I've never done that before. He probably didn't suspect anything with a k - " I stopped, almost saying 'kid'. "- with you around." She sighed again, her eyes still wide. She looked at me a little distastefully.

"What?" I asked her.

"Nothin'," she mumbled.

"No, really," I insisted, "Tell me."

"It's just ... " She frowned. "I didn't think _you'd _be one to go stealing from stores. You're so much nicer than that."

I felt a little ashamed right then, if you want to know the truth. I wondered if this was how the other guys felt when people called 'em out on all the bad stuff they did. I bit my lip. "Here, give me the gloves."

She looked perplexed. "What?"

"The gloves, Anne. You give your brother the knife, and I'll give him the gloves." She gaped at me, looking like a fish.

"Wh-what? But _why_?"

I hooked my fingers in my belt loops. "I dunno. I wasn't really thinking of Darry when I saw it - I knew Two-Bit'd like something like that. I mean, it ain't like his blade, but he can take it to work and stuff without gettin' in trouble, right?" She nodded, still looking amazed. "And it is pretty neat - I'll be boring. I'll give him the gloves."

"B-but what about Darry?" she squeaked.

I scratched my head, wondering if I should tell her my idea. I figured she'd tell me if it was dumb or not.

"Well, see back when we were in there, I had this thought ... "

~/~

When I had finished, she grinned widely, apparently all feelings from before forgotten - including stealing the knife. I'd asked if she thought it sounded stupid, and she said definitely not. I just hoped she knew my brother well enough to be right. So we walked around a little more until we found a different store than before (no way we were going back there, we had both decided together), and I walked in.

"Hello there, son," the man at the counter said as I walked up. "Need any help?"

"Yeah." I licked my lips, telling myself it was a good idea. "Do you sell picture frames here?"

~/~

_Dear Soda, _

_Merry Christmas to you too, Soda. Darry and I really hope you like your gift (but we explained that in the last letter, so nevermind). Christmas comes in about two days, and I've gotten Two-Bit and Darry their gifts already. Two-Bit I got gloves (for work, you know?), and Darry ... well, I got him something a little bit unplanned, and I'm not sure how he'll actually take it. See, I bought this frame (I didn't really want to take down any of Ma's pictures from before ... I think they all should stay up), and all I did was put his acceptance letter from the university in it. _

_Remember how he couldn't go, and how disappointed he was? I know it sounds dumb, and at first I was thinking of how I'd take it, or you'd take it, or anyone else in the world besides Darry'd take it, and realized that I'd just feel awful every time I walked into the house and saw it there. But then I figured it's Darry we're talking about, and Darry doesn't feel sorry for himself, he gets that he couldn't go, but that'll only make him try extra hard to make sure he _can _go one day. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it - I think he'll like it. And writing this all down to you has helped a lot too - thanks Soda. I feel like even though you're not here, you still kinda are. Does that make sense? Maybe not._

_I talked to Evie, she hung up on me. I'll try writing to Steve (I'll do it after this, I promise), and that sounds really neat, Soda. How old is she? Are you going to meet her anytime? New York sure is far away ... _

_Love,_

_Ponyboy _

_Steve,_

_I hope I didn't. I'd feel real bad if I hurt Evie's feelings. It's too bad you and Soda aren't in the same group, but do you two still write to each other? Can you even do that? And where are you two stationed anyway, if you're far away from each other that's too bad. Soda says he gets to play volleyball sometimes - do you guys do that? I have a feeling he doesn't tell me a lot of the stuff going on with him, and sometimes I want to know, sometimes I don't. I read in a book once about this German soldier coming home from a war, and when his mama asked him how he was, he said something strange. He said how he _couldn't _tell her all the stuff that happened - it was like he didn't have a choice. Maybe that's how it is with you guys. I hope you're both alright. _

_Merry Christmas._

_-Ponyboy Curtis _

_

* * *

_

**(author's note):**

Right. Open mind people. Open mind. The next chapter will have Darry, Two-Bit and Cathy ... so watch out for that. :)

Happy October 22nd, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	19. Christmas

****

(author's note):

Ahh. I'm so sorry about this guys - don't hate me! My/my beta reader's document thing kept screwing up, and I JUST got this five seconds ago. Here. :)

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own Outsiders, Hinton does. I also don't own 'Better Days'; it belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls. :) THANKS to my beta reader, divine energy! :)

* * *

x- 'Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings  
and designer love and empty things;  
just a chance that maybe we'll find better days. -x

* * *

"Hey, you're up early."

I jumped, a little startled when I heard my brother's voice, but nodded at him and shrugged. I hadn't slept too well during the night, and I just sat in bed for a while until I heard Darry get up. I guess I was a little jumpy from the lack of sleep.

"Yeah, well ... " I trailed off, rummaging through the top cabinet for the bread. He didn't respond for a while, and I heard clinking of his spoon against the bowl, and the flipping of a page. I made my breakfast in silence, and turned around to face him when I opened the fridge door. I turned around and saw him with a book propped up on the table.

"Hey, what're you reading?" I asked him, as I took a swig of milk from the container. I wiped my mouth.

"Nothing important, and use a glass next time," he chided lightly without looking up from his book. I walked over to him, and looked at the front cover. I frowned.

"Hey, what's this? Is this a textbook?" I asked, baffled. It was on science for Pete's sakes. Who read a textbook, anyway?

He grunted. "I think I got it from some second hand store, you know? Right around the time I was going to uh ... go to school." There was an awkward silence after that, and I wasn't sure how to break it. It always made me feel real lousy, thinking of all Darry had missed because of us. Because of me. I'd started convincing myself that if it was only Sodapop, Darry might've been able to go to school sooner. And I knew that this wasn't a lie, because I actually believed myself the more I thought on it.

"Oh." I scratched the back of my head. "So, uh ... why're you reading it?" Part of me hoped that he'd say something like how he was going back to school, he'd found a way to do that and still work. I tried imagining it a little. I could get a job, and with Soda sending some money home every now and then, I wondered if that ever would've been possible.

He shrugged. "Just want to see how much I remembered, I guess. Doesn't hurt to look at it every now and then."

"Oh, okay." We stopped talking after that, and ate in silence for a while. It was quiet these days, almost a ghostly kind of quiet. The house was cold and silent except for the few background noises in the background. I was thinking of a time when our house was never quiet. The TV was always on, or the radio was turned up full blast. Soda and Steve would argue constantly in the background, or Two-Bit would be teasing Johnnycake for something. Heck, I was remembering Mom calling out to Dad from the kitchen, or Dad clamping a hand on Darry's shoulder, and those two talking for hours on end.

I took a peek at Darry, whose brow was scrunched up in concentration, but his eyes weren't moving. I was wondering if he was thinking the same thing and if - like me - he was just waiting for it to come waltzing through the front door, like nothing had ever been missing.

~/~

I left a little while after I had realized neither of us were going to get any talking done. I sighed, and walked out to the back porch, grabbing my smokes on the kitchen counter. It was much harder to quit than I had first realized, but I figured a cigarette here and there wouldn't really do nothing. 'Sides, I was on break and all, and coach didn't expect us all to be in mint condition after break.

I looked out at our small stretch of backyard, taking in the bare patches, and the old wooden fence protecting our house. I snorted lightly, and lit up, just letting it dangle between my two fingers. I raked my fingers through my hair - it felt weird without all of the grease in it, but I guess that'd been just one of the changes from before.

Darry came out onto the porch, "Hey. Do you want to do anything today?"

I looked up at him, and chewed on my cig without thinking. I made a face, and quickly took it out. Dammit Mark. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It's Christmas Eve. Feel weird just being here, especially since I got the Sunday off."

Sunday. It clicked in my head, then. "Hey, Darry - what time is it?"

He poked his head back into the house to look at the kitchen clock. "7:55. Why?"

"Could we go to church?"

~/~

"Can't remember the last time I've been to an actual church. Sure is excitin' and all. Think we'll see Baby Jesus?"

"Two-Bit, it's church, not a concert. And what do you mean, 'Baby Jesus'?" I chuckled from beside Two-Bit in the backseat of Mrs. Mathews' car. Darry and I had decided to invite the Mathews along with us to church. Surprisingly Two-Bit had been the most excited of all, and was nearly bouncing in the seat when they swung by to pick us up for 9:00 mass.

"Aw, you know where I'm coming from, Pone. Baby Jesus. Don't them churches put out that little scene with the lambs and stuff on Christmas?" I was sitting near the window, and I heard Annie give off a very unattractive snort.

"You mean ... the Nativity, Two-Bit," Mrs. Mathews sighed from the passenger's seat. Darry grinned at me through the side-view mirror. I smiled too. This was gonna be interesting.

"Yeah, Ma. You got it. I bet you'll be the preacher's favorite when we get there." Two-Bit nodded cheerfully, elbowing me in the ribs playfully.

"Two-Bit, it ain't school first of all, or the preacher'd kick you out 'fore you even stepped into the pew. You just watch. And sing sometimes."

"What're you talking about, Pony? Teachers love me - can't seem to get rid of me. I think they liked to keep me around as an example for them other dumb hoodlums." He winked. "And I got an awfully lovely singing voice - I might even win a prize."

Everyone was laughing by now, and Two-Bit was just shaking his head, going, "Just you wait. I'll bring the audience to tears."

~/~

Two-Bit sure didn't bring the people to tears, but he sure did get a few looks from people while we were singing. He didn't seem to remember the last time we all went to church together, and even more thankfully, the preacher didn't either. It was pretty packed there, but I figured it'd be on Christmas Eve and all. Two-Bit would mumble to me or Darry occasionally, but stopped pretty quickly after his mama shot him a look.

I did realize something different from last time though. Two-Bit seemed to be paying more attention to the sermon than last time. He said the words to some of the prayers he did know, and made sure to give his mom a big hug when we were exchangin' signs of peace. I wasn't certain why he was doing it, but I figured it had to do with the fact he had actual things he could physically see being taken away from him. It's hard to be thankful for all your things, 'specially when you're a greaser. You don't have clear things you can thank God for usually, unless you look hard enough.

When the communion was being passed around, only Mrs. Mathews took it, and Two-Bit winked at me again and leaned down close to whisper while his mom was praying, "We gotta go pay the birthday boy a visit 'fore we leave. Sound good, kid?" I nodded, sensing some serious undertone with Two-Bit's joke.

After it was over, Two-Bit nudged me again, and told me to get there quick 'fore it got too crowded. People smiled at me as I walked towards 'Baby Jesus' and it felt nice - not being judged for once. The church wasn't too ritzy or nothing, so the scene wasn't all that impressive or nothing. Two-Bit was right though - there were the lambs, Mary, Joseph, and - of course - Baby Jesus.

He tapped me on the shoulder, and grinned again. "Cool. Hey there, birthday boy." I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Be cool. This is serious, man," I reprimanded. Two-Bit nodded again, this time with a serious look on his face.

"Hello, Mr. Christ!"

I groaned into my hand. "Here, why don't you try this?" I knelt down on the step in front of the scene, and folded my hands together, and prayed for a while. I thanked God for the usual stuff - Darry, my home, my friends. I prayed that Soda and Steve would come home soon. Heck, I even prayed I'd get a good grade on my midterm.

"Alright, my turn!" Two-Bit cried out happily, pushing me aside. He knelt down, biting his lip. I think it wasn't until that point that he realized he didn't want to be goofy anymore, and actually wanted to pray. I nodded.

"Go ahead, man. I'm gonna go find Darry and your family." Two-Bit nodded at me, looking real thankful. I left him, but not before turning back. I wondered who he was praying for. If he was thanking God for something, or if he was asking for something. I turned away slowly, and walked back to Mrs. Mathews, Darry and Annie, leaving Two-Bit there with his thoughts.

While weaving through the people, Annie nudged me. "Hey, I think I see your girlfriend." I felt my stomach turn sour. My girlfriend? I automatically thought of the girls I had talked to recently - Margaret, Cathy, Evie, heck, even Angela or Cherry. I looked where Annie was pointing. It was Cathy.

"Uh, uh ... she ain't my girlfriend, Annie," I said flatly. "And don't call her that around her - she's got a boyfriend. One who wants to beat the stuffing out of me too."

"What stuffing?" she asked blithely, turning back to her mom, and hooking her elbow with hers to help her walk. I peered down at my arms - she was right; I looked like a scare crow.

"Well, I told her you were here - you should go talk to her. She wanted something." I felt my stomach flip, and I mentally cursed Annie. Geez, what was with girls and ratting guys out anyway? I sighed, and made my way to Cathy. The crowd was thinning out anyway.

"Cathy. Hi." I waved. Dork.

"Oh, Ponyboy." She smiled, pushing back her bangs. "I wanted to let you know, my boss said he did need another busboy, and if you were interested, you can start the Monday we get back to school." She smiled without her teeth, nodding.

"Okay, thanks Cathy," I said slowly. "That'd be great." She smiled again, and briskly turned around to walk away, leaving me a little light headed.

~/~

The next day we found ourselves at the Mathews house. Mrs. Mathews somehow managed to convince us to come to their house for dinner on Christmas, but it didn't take a lot of arm twisting on either of our parts. I knew that Darry's only issue was he didn't want Mrs. Mathews to have to feed us, but she insisted so much, that we would've felt bad if we'd said 'no.'

"And Two-Bit just loves to have his friends over, don't you darling?" Mrs. Mathews cooed at Two-Bit, who didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest.

"Oh, yeah. I go around the house making plans for everything. Ask Annie, I tell these girls, 'Okay, everybody - Ponyboy and Superman are coming over!' I get my favorite toys out and everything." He nodded happily, and laughed finally. Mrs. Mathews cuffed him on the head.

"Such a sassy kid. He always was, you know." She passed around some of the food. I had wound up sitting next to Darry with Two-Bit right on the other side of the table.

"Thank-you so much for this, Mrs. Mathews," Darry said gratefully, smiling. "It really means a lot and I'm sorr - "

"Oh, hush now, Darry." Mrs. Mathews waved away Darry's apologies. "You've been a doll. You and Ponyboy. What with helping around for shopping and taking care of Annie. And getting Two-Bit his job. Well, it's the least I can do."

He nodded, like that's what he wanted to hear. "So what shall we do afterwards? Did you two boys open your presents from each other already?" We both shook our heads.

"We were thinkin' of doing it when we got home, but we'll stay for yours."

And so we did. Annie got some set of ribbons for her hair from her mom, and Two-Bit got her some record that she was pretty cheerful about. Two-Bit joked a little about the gloves and boots - Annie was right, his mom had gotten him boots - but seemed happy with 'em all. When Annie gave him her present, he got real excited, but also peered at her accusingly,

"Why were you out looking for these kind of things, huh missy?" He cocked an eyebrow and Annie blushed.

"I went with her, Two-Bit. It's fine. We were looking for things together - mentioned you might like that." She nodded.

"Must've cost a pretty penny," he said suspiciously again, peering at it closely.

"Naw," I chuckled, and I saw Annie blush. "It was a steal."

~/~

By the time we had gotten home, it was nearly nine o'clock. Darry sighed. "Well, that was great, huh?"

I nodded, grinning. "Yeah, it was." We walked into the house, and I nodded at the tree. "So ..."

"So ..." We both looked at each other and laughed. As we were sitting down, I took my present to Darry, and clutched it to my chest. He was in the kitchen putting away his keys. He finally sat down and peered at me curiously. "That for me or you?"

"You." I handed it to him. "Here, it's not a whole lot, but I ... I dunno. I mean, I was just thinking about it, and it seemed like a good idea 'n all ..."

He stopped me. "Why don't you open Soda's first?"

"Soda sent me something?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. Darry nodded slowly.

"Yeah, didn't I - ? Oh, damn. One second." He went out to the hallway, and I sat there a little more excited. It wasn't that I was getting something else, but it felt a little more normal getting something from Sodapop.

Last year's Christmas had been terrible. It'd been our first Christmas without Mom and Dad, and Dally and Johnny had just died. The gang came over on Christmas Eve to make sure we were all okay, but we spent Christmas with just the three of us. I remembered that Soda had been cooking something, and told Darry and I to close our eyes while we ate it, "'Cause you candyasses sure as hell won't like it if you look at it while chowing down'. He was right. It was the strangest mixture of yellow and blue you'd ever seen - I still think it was Soda that helped us through last year. Soda made it alright.

"Here," Darry mumbled, handing me a small package. He was peering down at his own curiously.

I flipped mine over. It looked like a book of some sort, and I ripped off the newspaper covering it. It was a book - some sort of composition notebook. I flipped through the pages, and a note fell out,

'Dear Ponyboy,

Merry Christmas there, kiddo. As you can see I got you a book. Which isnt suprising I know, but I thought youd like it. I know youre real frustraited with me Pony, because I'm not telling you any of the stuff that goes on here, but its too difficult. I don't want to tell you some, and if I told you all that I did, well I'd fill up a whole book. Which is what this is. I'm leaving out some of the bad stuff, but I included a lot about what goes on around here. What we eat, do for fun - what times we do stuff. I even put in some of the guys I met here. I wanted to put a lot of the leaves and stuff we found here, but one of the seargants here said I probably shouldn't - you might catch some sort of disease. I snuck in some different things we found that Leutenent Garett said I could bring back to you.

And I'm not the best writer in the world, so I let the guys write some stuff to you too. Just letters and such - they seemed pretty excited to write to you. Your my little brother after all. We look out for each other here. It's not so bad.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Sure took a long time to make.

Love you, Ponyboy. Merry Christmas!

Sodapop Curtis

"Wow ..." I whispered. I wanted to read it all right then. Darry looked up from his own present - looked like a tool of some sort - and nodded.

"What's that?"

"It's a book of some kind. Soda said some of his friends wrote stuff, and he did too." Darry's eyes brightened.

"Hey, that's neat. Here, open mine, kid." He handed me a sturdy looking box. I ripped the paper off of it, and opened the box.

"Golly, Dar!" I exclaimed when I realized what they were. "These must've cost a lot." They were running shoes, and good ones. Looked like they'd barely been worn. Maybe they'd never been worn.

He shrugged. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. You're working real hard getting your life back on track." He paused when he heard the pun. I laughed, and he groaned.

"Here," I said. "Here's mine. It's a little ... odd," I started meekly as Darry carefully tore off the paper. "I mean, it kind of just came to me, a-and ..."

He glanced down at the frame for a minute, biting his nail. He blinked at it, and I saw his eyes change when he realized what it was. "Gosh, Ponyboy ..."

"I mean," I started quickly. "I know it's dumb, but I thought it might ... be nice. I mean, you're not like most people Darry." He jumped and looked at me curiously. "Most people would get all upset if they saw that, and knew they couldn't go to college. But you ain't like that, Dare. It's just gonna make you work harder to get there's all. And -" He cut me off by hugging me.

"I love it. Thanks, Pone." He smiled at me, ruffling my hair. "And I don't regret nothing, kid. I'd pick you over school any day, you hear me?" I nodded. He looked back down at it, and traced a finger over the acceptance letter. "Man ... only you could ever think of this. Geez, Pone - I know we don't understand each other too well, but sometimes that's alright." He smiled. "Thanks, kiddo. Thanks a lot."

"Merry Christmas, Darry."

"Merry Christmas, Ponyboy."

The house was quiet, and I knew he was filling up the silence with the same voice I was.

~/~

We went to bed shortly afterwards, and as I was drifting off to sleep that night, the pale moonlight shining through the window, I whispered,

"Merry Christmas, Sodapop."

* * *

**Happy November 9th (And Happy Birthday, Dallas!), my readers. Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well. :) **


	20. Drowning

**(author's note):**

'Kay. An update. A LONG update. :-) Also, I wrote something else today about Bob. As in Sheldon, Bob. Do y'all think I should post it, or no? I think it's kinda good, but I'm not sure. 3: There's Soda in it too ...

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

Don't own "Someday I'll Be Saturday Night" by Bon Jovi, nor do I own The Outsiders, for S.E. Hinton.

Thanks Dee, for being my beta reader! :D

* * *

x- And Tuesday just might go my way  
It can't get worse than yesterday  
Thursdays, Fridays ain't been kind  
But somehow I'll survive. -x

"Ponyboy, could you do me a favor?"

I looked up from washing dishes in the sink, and saw Cathy standing there, untying her apron. It was my second day at work, and I had been washing dishes and utensils for the past two hours. My shift was almost up anyway. Mr. Saunders - the boss - had said I would start out slowly, but my hours would increase the more I worked. I wasn't sure whether that was good or not.

"Yeah, Cathy?" I asked her as she struggled with untying her apron.

She groaned in frustration. "Well first you can help me untie this darned thing?"

I chuckled and walked over to her, before taking the knot from her small hands. "And could you please do me a _huge _favor? I accidentally knocked over a drink on table two, but I really need to ... get out of here to meet Bryon, and I was wondering ...?"

I bit my lip, not letting on my reluctance. Cathy had her hands full over there - three kids and a single mom didn't make her job too easy. "Sure, no problem."

She beamed. "Thank-you." She squeezed my hand, before running off to get her bag in the kitchen. "If you could just finish with them, and make sure they get the check, you can keep the tip."

"Hey, thanks Cathy - that's nice of you." I walked over to her.

She peered at me curiously as she swung her bag over her shoulder, and buttoned up her coat. "No, it's not nice. It's just fair." She walked off, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank-you Pony."

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. I rested my hands on the sink behind me. "Nah, it's not a problem." I tried to grin easy like I had seen Soda do so many times, but Cathy wasn't swayed and I felt dumb.

She cocked an eyebrow. "No, it's not just that. You're a nice guy. Thanks again!" She called back as she walked away.

I was left standing there again, feeling a pit in my stomach. She sure made me feel dumb sometimes, but the funny thing was that I didn't mind all that much. When Darry made me feel dumb, I knew it was because he thought he knew best. Cathy didn't try to make me feel stupid - everything she said was just so simply logical, it left me confused. Suddenly I heard a voice yell out from the front,

"Hey Curtis - who's gonna clean up this table? Wait, where's Cathy?"

"Oh, shit," I cursed, and sped out of the kitchen before Mr. Saunders could holler at me again. "Coming, sir!"

~/~

It was Darry's birthday that Friday, and Two-Bit had decided he wanted to take Darry somewhere if he didn't already have plans. Darry had never been one to carry on a lot about his birthday, even when Mom and Dad were alive. I think he always had the sense to him that we didn't have a lot of money - and his birthday was only ten days after Christmas, too. But Two-Bit was pretty adamant about doing something fun - I think he just wanted to take Darry's mind off of work and Soda.

"I don't know, Two-Bit ..." Darry scratched his head. It was Thursday afternoon, at around four o'clock when I came home to see Two-Bit sitting with Darry in the living room. "And besides - where would we be going, anyway?"

"Well, we could go check out the races - I hear there are some tonight. Guy at work was talking about it. Said he might want to do some betting -"

"No betting," Darry said firmly. "And anyway, those drag races always get me mad. Who'd do a stupid thing like that? To their car and everything?"

_Soda, for starters, _I said in my head. I knew that Darry didn't think it was dumb - he'd just never admit that he'd be afraid to do something like that; Darry never wanted to admit he was afraid of anything. I sat down on the couch after waving a hello to Two-Bit and Darry.

Two-Bit was laughing. "Naw, Superman - _horse _races. We could drive outta town, head on and see what's happenin' at the races. Might be good, 'fore it gets too cold to do that sort of stuff."

"That might be fun," I supplied helpfully. Darry turned his gaze to me from his chair, and shrugged.

"You want to go?" he asked me curiously, looking a little surprised. I hadn't been down to the horse stables ever since Soda left. I still liked horses, I guess, but I always felt it was more exciting knowing someone there. Soda'd always get whisked away by his buddies there. Down at the stables, people made like family more than like friends, and I always felt out of place even when Soda'd introduce me to people there.

I shook my head, unconcerned. "Hey, it's your birthday. Might be fun gettin' out of the neighborhood for a day though."

"Yeah ..." Darry sighed. Two-Bit propped his feet up on the coffee table.

"We should do somethin', the three of us. Feels like we haven't in a while." He folded his arms under his armpits, peering curiously at his shoes, a carefully nonchalant look on his face.

"Okay." Darry held his hands up, grinning. "Okay, fine. I get off at around two tomorrow - we can leave at 'round five. That alright, Pone?" Two-Bit cheered, and I grinned, nodding. I figured it'd be fun, spending Darry's birthday like this. Getting out of town for a while seemed like a mighty fine idea to me. At the time.

~/~

I couldn't remember the last time I felt that happy. It wasn't any sort of euphoric joy, but I felt easy-going. Even though my brother was at war and I had no idea what was happening with half of my friends, I felt calm. _At peace. _

We'd gotten there at around six, and even Darry looked happier than he had in a while. He was shaking his head, quietly chuckling at the stupid jokes Two-Bit would make whenever he saw something that caught his interest. By the time I zoned back into what they were saying, Two-Bit was on one of his favorite topics - blondes.

"Okay, so what about her?" Darry said suspiciously, as if challenging Two-Bit. I looked a few rows down at a blonde girl, who was chatting it up with some cowboy. Two-Bit scrutinized her for a minute, stroking his chin.

"Hmm ..." He continued this for almost a minute, before nodding firmly. "Fake."

"Fake what?" I piped in cautiously. My brother and Two-Bit answered at the same time, "Hair."

"Okay," Darry said impatiently, though he was laughing. "There's no way you can tell if her _hair _is fake from all the way over here." Two-Bit merely shook his head pityingly at Darry.

"_Au contraire, _my unobservant friend." Two-Bit turned to face us better, and patted Darry on the shoulder, "Okay, okay - do you see how she's tuggin' her hair left 'n right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, look'it what she does every minute or so." We all stopped watching the race, and studied the blonde carefully. She twirled her hair tightly around her finger, grinning at the cowboy still. Then she pressed her hair up to her mouth and peered at it, biting her lip. "See?" Two-Bit jeered, elbowing Darry. "See that, fellas?"

"See _what_?" Darry grumbled, rubbing his side. "I don't see her doing anything."

"Superman, when you get to be as smart as I am - and don't you worry, that day'll come ... " Two-Bit ducked to avoid a smack on the head, "... you'll know that _real _blonde girls don't look at their hair every five seconds, like they've got the eighth wonder of the world sticking outta their heads - they wait for _other _people to notice 'em." He nodded confidently, and Darry threw his hands up.

"I give up! You're insane, Mathews." He got out of his seat, and called back, "I'm going to the bathroom - be right back."

"Oh, hey - I gotta go too!" Two-Bit whined, standing up. Darry looked at him curiously,

"You went right before we left _and _when we got here - what'd you drink today?" I stood up along with Two-Bit. I had to go too, and I sorta didn't want to be hanging around with no one I knew.

"Gee, what's it matter to you? You know, you're a lot like my mama sometimes, Dar. And it kinda scares me, buddy."

Darry rolled his eyes, and caught my glance. He smiled again, and I felt like maybe I understood him better than I had thought.

~/~

"Hey, what's goin' on over there?" Two-Bit pointed. We had to practically walk around the whole perimeter to look for the bathroom, and we had already come across loads of different bettings going on outside of the rodeo.

"I dunno." I shrugged, and Two-Bit beckoned behind to Darry, who was catching up, moving through the throng of people. They moved pretty quickly for him; Darry's not a guy you'd like to make angry.

We came a little closer to where this small crowd of people were all shouting and cheering at something in the middle. A lot of the yelling wasn't in English either - sounded like Spanish when I got closer.

Two-Bit stood, dumbfounded. "Hey, look! Chickens!" he cried out, pointing. Some of the men gathered around turned to look at him strangely, but shook their heads and ignored him.

I peered down at the 'chickens' that Two-Bit was so gleeful about. They weren't chickens, they were _roosters. _I had heard about cockfighting before, but hadn't ever seen one up close. It wasn't an official event at fairs or rodeos - it was illegal here, anyway. If you showed up to a cockfight, you were just itching to get busted by the cops. Most people did it anyway, and I heard it was even more popular in Texas than around here. People thought it was fun to watch, I guess.

I was looking at the roosters though, and I didn't think it was too funny, to be honest. The roosters had these knives and weapons strapped onto their feet, and when they'd get close enough to hit each other with 'em, they'd let out these pitiful little clucking sounds. It was kind of making me sad, watching them go at each other like that, and everyone else around just hollerin' at 'em to go faster.

"Ponyboy, Darry!" Two-Bit turned to us, and pointed to it like we hadn't been there for a minute already. "Look, chickens!"

Darry frowned. Maybe he didn't like seeing the chickens trying to kill each other either. "We should leave. This sort of stuff is illegal. Probably why it's so far away from everything else around here." I sighed. Of course Darry'd care more about getting in trouble; I just didn't want to see the blasted animals knife each other. "... and besides, these fellas don't care about the animals. They'll let them kill each other; I don't need to see that." He said it very firmly, like he had made the decision for both of us.

Two-Bit grinned, and shook his head at Darry. "Gettin' a little sensitive now, aren't we? C'mon. They'll stop 'em once one of 'em falls over. I think." Darry folded his arms. "Oh, okay - one minute then, alright?"

Darry sighed, but relented. "I swear, Two-Bit ... we get in trouble ..."

"Don't worry 'bout it, you two. We'll go do something else next - maybe they're racing pigs too. That less intense for you, Dar?"

I sighed, still feeling uncomfortable. "Hey, guys. I'm gonna go find something else to do, alright?" Darry turned, and peered at me.

"You okay, kid?" He frowned. "Hey, let's go do something else if it bugs you."

"It don't bug me," I interjected quickly. "I'm just not into roosters is all. I'm gonna be over there, alright?" I pointed to a nearby stable. I figured I'd go see some of the horses; I hadn't done that in a while. Darry nodded. "Alright. I'm coming. Let me just go get Two-Bit."

I strolled away, and pushed through the people who were walking in different directions - looking at all the different animals, and betting on races. It was almost comforting, being in such a down-to-earth sort of place. I walked up to where the stable was, and looked up at the pinto horse. "Hey there," I mumbled, and gently ran my hand down its nose. "I wonder who you belong to."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a voice come from behind me. "Hey there, kid - don't touch the horses."

"Gee, sorry there, sir. I didn't -_ Curly?" _I stopped my apology when I saw Curly Shepard smirking at me, a cigarette behind his ear.

"Hey there, Curtis. Thought it was you. Couldn't be sure though," he chuckled, talking in a slow drawl. He went up to the horse, and patted its nose too. "So how's it hanging, man?"

"Curly?" I repeated. "Uh - what are you doing here?" Boy was I slow. Curly cocked an eyebrow, looking both amused and slightly concerned for my sanity.

"What? There a 'Wanted' sign here with my face on it or somethin'?" he peered around jokingly, and punched me lightly in the arm. "Long time no see, man."

"Uh, yeah," I said slowly. "So how's it going with you? I heard Angela got married."

He snorted, and kicked at some of the straw on the ground. "Let's get outta here first, man. Smells like shit in here." He strode out of the stable, and I followed. "Yeah, Angel got married. Tim was real cool about the whole thing - didn't let it get to him at all, man. She's gotta learn that we can't always be there to get her out of shit." He spat on the ground. "God she's dumb, sometimes."

He seemed real bitter over the whole ordeal. I knew that Curly listened to whatever Tim told him to do - he figured he knew best. And maybe he did. Curly might not've been the brightest out there, but Tim was no moron; he knew the score better'n anyone. I had a feeling Curly wasn't just angry at Angela though. I think he was really just upset with himself - I mean, some guy knocks your sister up and you gotta feel some guilt, I guess. Even if it ain't your fault. I wouldn't know though, since I didn't have a sister.

"So, how're you doing, man? What're you doing outta town?" I asked him.

He shrugged, and rubbed his hands together. He looked at the ground with a blank expression for a while, then shook out of it. "Not much. Thought I'd check in on a few races; see some old pals. Nothing special."

"Didn't know you liked horse racin'. You ever race?" I asked curiously.

He made a face. "Naw, not my style. I ... y'know, _help out_ sometimes though ..." I froze at the tone of his voice; I didn't like how he said that. Not at all. I decided to drop it anyway.

"Curly ..." I started, and he stopped me, looking a little mad.

"Quit it, Curtis. Anyway, I'm sure you staying a good boy like you always are. Staying away from Jennings now too, I suppose ..."

"Yeah, I am - wait, what's Mark got to do with anything?" I asked, bewildered. "I'm still friends with Mark, why?"

Curly's face remained impassive, but I saw the ghost of a smirk on his face. "You don't know?" he whispered, looking almost amused.

"Know what?" I asked, a little worriedly. "Know what, Curly?"

He glanced at me once more before striding off. "I've just heard things - not much, just a few whispers here 'n there. Either way." He turned back, and looked at me seriously with those dark blue eyes - his Shepard trademark - "He sure ain't going the same way as you are. Might want to stay out of it."

"Curly!" I called back, "_Cur _- " I cut myself off when I saw Darry marching up to me, looking less than thrilled. I stopped. I knew Darry didn't like me talking with Curly; he thought it was best if I stayed away from the Shepards altogether. "Hi, Darry ..." I said cautiously.

He frowned down at me, looking upset. "Where'd you go? You said you'd be at the stables." He pointed ... all the way back to where I had met Curly, practically 300 feet away. Golly, had we really walked that far?

"Oh." I blinked, just as Two-Bit came up from behind Darry.

"Hey there, Pony - where'd you go?"

"I uh ... I was looking for you two," I lied. "I'm sorry; I guess I should've stayed there."

Darry opened his mouth to answer, but then just closed it. He shook his head. "It's fine. Don't worry - we found you ... so it's alright."

I stayed quietly, hardly believing my luck - Darry had let me off the hook, and I wasn't aiming to ruin it by saying something dumb. "So how was the fight?" I turned to Two-Bit as Darry walked ahead of us.

"It was fine," he answered a little curtly. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, signaling for me to stop. I watched Darry walk ahead still, and Two-Bit turned to me. "Why were you with Curly Shepard there, kid? And why'd you lie 'bout it?"

_Oh, shit. _"Uh ... well, you know Dar don't like him too much and -"

"And for good reasons," Two-Bit said firmly. "That kid's got some problems, you best stay out of."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. Easy for you to say, Two-Bit." He looked down at me, shocked. "They're not your friends getting into trouble ..." I didn't know where this was coming from. "It's all easy for Darry to tell me to be good, stay out of trouble - well what do I do then? Just watch my friends drown?" I glared at him, shoving his hand off my shoulder.

"Pony, kid ... what's this about anyway?" he asked. "Come on, let's go sit." He pointed to the bench. "Superman will figure it out."

"It's nothing," I said firmly as I sat on the bench next to him. "I just hear things about my friends - I don't know what to do."

"Stay out of it," he said simply. "It's not worth it, Pone. Okay? You can only worry about yourself."

"How can you say that?" I whispered. "How can you _possibly _think that? After all we've seen? Johnny and Dallas? My parents? What about when Steve's old man kicked him out? Or whenever Johnny came over after a beating? And we're not supposed to care?"

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked old, then. Two-Bit looked real old. "Kid, time's are changing - you see that. It's hard, but think of it this way. There was last year, and there's now - two different things, right?" I nodded reluctantly. "Well, imagine there's a real strong current - so strong that it just about swallows you up if you resist it. You can't hold on to the past, or you'll drown. And you can't grab on to everyone you know and bring 'em all out of the current your way - that's just too many people and too little of you, yeah? We're all goin' at it different ways - swimmin' through the current, and it's different for everyone. That current? That's right now, kid. It feels like we're all drifting away, but we ain't, kid. When we end up on the other side, you'll see. It'll just be like old times, you'll see."

I breathed out. Two-Bit sure could be deep sometimes, as much as I hated to admit it. "You're right," I said, still miserable. "You're right, Two-Bit. Thanks, man." I leaned over to punch him lightly on the shoulder, when Darry came up again, this time looking real ticked off now.

"Alright, if I lose you two _again, _I'm leaving you here. You can spend the rest of your lives shovelling out horse shit in the stables and bettin' on _chicken races._" He glared, and without waiting for an answer turned back and walked away again.

"Alright, kid - let's get outta here. Hey, Superman, wait up!" Two-Bit yelped after Darry, and I followed.

~/~

Later that night while I was drifting off to sleep, I was thinking of what Two-Bit said. What he explained made sense. You drown if you resist the current. You drown if you try to help too many people at the same time.

_'But if all that's possible, can't you then drown without it being your fault? What if you're swimming out of the current, and someone hangs on to you - refuses to let go? How do chose then? To save that person, or to save yourself?'_

It was just another question without an answer.

* * *

Yeah, you waited two full weeks for that lousy chapter. Reviews make me write quicker & better! O.o

Happy November 28th, my readers. Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	21. Turning Point

**(author's note): **

It's so short, and I'm so sorry, but it was in my outline ... seven more chapters, guys! And they're all going to epic!Ponyboy. Get excited!

**(disclaimer/acknowledgements):**

I don't own, Hinton & Goo Goo Dolls do. Thanks to my beta reader, divine energy. And THANK-YOU to all of my reviewers - I got 4 reviews, guys! FOUR. :D Thanks to randomperson, FeistyFeist, tiffany59, and Hawaiichick.

* * *

You're cynical and beautiful,  
you always make a scene.  
You're monochrome delirious,  
you're nothing that you seem. -x

* * *

_Dear Ponyboy,_

_Lord kid, I want you to do me a favor okay? Go find your birth certificit and tell me what year you were born in. I don't beleive that you're only 15 anymore. You must be older, to have a great idea like that for Darry! I mean, I never would've thunk of that - did he like it? I know he must've, but you gotta tell me everything he said okay? Did you like what I sent you, kid? I really hope you did. I know it's not a lot, but I tried and the guys tried too. _

_Lots of stuff has been happening since Christmas ended. All the guys here were all excited - they thought we might be going home for Christmas. You get to think crazy things out here, Pone. Every day I hear new things. I didn't want to tell y'all, in case you got to excited for me coming home (I know I was getting excited), and it didn't happen. It didn't, obviusly but I'm still okay. Here' something you might like Pony. We went to another village the other day - have I ever told you about that? Well, we get to these villages and we give the people all of these rations - food, medicine, blankets you name it. A sargent here says it's to make the people think we're on their side - before they go over to the Congs. I like doing it sometimes. We met this really small boy when we went over. I can't remember his name, but he was real sweet. He was clinging to his grandma's side even when we came up and offered him something sweet. You don't see a lot of boys in the villages - they're all fighting. In a couple of years, he'll be fighting too, probably. He followed us - me and Mason - around the rest of the day though. _

_Don't worry to much about Evie and Steve kid. They'll make up again, like they always do. Steve'll come back and Evie'll realize how much she's missed him. I got another letter from that girl, by the way. It's nice talking to a girl out here. Apparently she wants to be a writer and go to colege and everything - can you imagine that? Girl's got spunk. I think I like that about her though. Reminds me of you some, and she don't mind when I write stupid in these letters. _

_Love you,_

_Soda_

_Ponyboy,_

_Thanks kid. I hope you didn't break her heart either, but I guess there's not a lot I can do if you did. I guess she'll just have to move on. Sodapop and me, we haven't seen each other since I left for basic training. It's not always a problem that we're stationed far away (in this case, we are though); we just never stray real far from our platoons. I reckon that Soda hasn't told you a lot about what's going on here - he's always wanted to protect you, and I guess he's right to do that, but here's a word of advice for you, kid. When you're done with school, and if this blasted war's still going on, then do anything you can to get out of it. I don't care how you do it - go up to Canada or something, but just don't come here. _

_Yeah, we do stuff like that too - you make friendly with people around here, it's kind of like back home in that way, I guess. Thanks for putting up with Evie; she's a good girl, I just don't know what to do anymore. _

_See ya around, kid._

_Steve._

"So kid, how's life treatin' you these days?"

It was the Monday after Darry's birthday, and I met Two-Bit at break again. I chomped down on my apple, and shrugged. "Not a lot - midterms are coming up soon though." I paused. "I got a job, too. Part-time."

Two-Bit responded with a grin and raised eyebrows. "Well, ain't that something? Nice going there, kid. What kind of job is it?"

"Nothing special." I shrugged. "I'm a busboy. But I like it; it's fun." I thought about how I saw Cathy practically every other day now. It was nice; she wasn't the easiest person to talk to, but she was interesting. She had five younger siblings - three brothers, including M&M - and two little sisters. She didn't get along with her dad very well, but her and her mom could talk for hours. She thought her little brother was one of the greatest kids on the planet. She loved books, but didn't like English class. We talked about that for a while, actually. She told me that Mr. Allen really made her think about teachers in general.

_"He just doesn't seem to understand how to teach, y'know?" she told me, twirling a straw wrapper in her slender fingers. She went on without waiting for an answer, "I mean, I could teach better than he could, and I'm only sixteen."_

_"Maybe you should," I told her, scrubbing at a table. I wasn't really listening - she wasn't one to chatter aimlessly like some girls did, but some subjects just made her go on and on about. Maybe it was a girl thing._

_"Maybe I will." I looked up, and she narrowed her eyes at me, but a little smile was curled at the corner of her mouth like I had challenged her. She would've been more annoying if she just wasn't so pretty - I was getting to understand her better than I did before. I wasn't sure what to think of that. _

"Hey, earth to Ponyboy - kid?" Two-Bit wiggled his fingers in front of my eyes. I broke out of my daze.

"Huh?" I said very articulately. Two-Bit rolled his eyes, grinning.

"What's her name?"

I froze. "Wh...what?" I stammered, blinking innocent-like. "What do you mean?"

"C'mon, you just zoned out for five minutes with stars in your eyes - and no way in hell does a fifteen year old boy become a busboy and thinks that it's _fun. _I don't care how weird you are, kid." I bit my lip.

"Two-Bit ... " I started. He batted his eyelashes at me, a smug grin on his face. "Okay, fine. Her name's Cathy."

He straightened his back. "Cathy what?" Oh, that was right. I had forgotten - his on and off girlfriend was named Kathy.

"Carlson." He visibly relaxed. "For Pete's sake Two-Bit, do you really think I'd be making googly eyes for your girl?" That came out wrong. Two-Bit, slick as ever, caught onto that right away too.

"What's wrong with _my _Kathy again?" He grinned. "I'm just messing with you, kid - I know by now you just say stuff weird."

I sighed. "Don't matter. She's got a boyfriend. We're just friends. It's cool."

"Know what you should do?"

"What?"

He crooked his finger at me to come closer. Then he whispered in my ear, "Marry her, and name all your kids after me!"

I pushed him away, annoyed as he laughed. "And here I thought I was having a serious conversation with you." He just chortled some more, pointing. "Y'know, serious conversations are a big boy privilege, Two-Bit. You don't want to be a big boy?" I glared at him, suppressing a grin.

He just shook his head, still grinning widely. "Alright, you know what you should _really _do?"

I sighed. "Two-Bit ..."

"I'm serious!" He held up his hands to stop me. "Don't think too much about her, okay? 'Cause soon as she fucks something up, and you're still puttin' her on a pedestal, everything's gonna go downhill from there. Tell me, Pone - she pretty?"

"As a picture," I responded goofily, knowing it sounded corny as hell. I didn't want Two-Bit to think I was a sap though. I wasn't. I don't think.

"Then that's your best bet. And y'know, if you don't like her ..."

"Okay, I get it Two-Bit," I cut him off, swinging my bag over my shoulders. I had hardly eaten anything, but it didn't matter, I wasn't hungry. "There's still this problem of her _having a boyfriend. _I gotta get going."

"Impress her." Two-Bit waggled his eyebrows at me. "That always works."

"Sounds _wonderful. _I'll see you later - say hi to your mom for me." And with that, I headed back to class, and Two-Bit went back to work.

~/~

Two days later, I was heading over to the hospital to go in for an after-school shift. I was studying for my exams on the bus, and trying to figure out a Chem lab that I still had to finish. Cathy was working today. It'd gotten to a point that I really looked forward to seeing her; even though she wasn't my girlfriend or nothing, it was nice to have a girl friend out of school - Margaret was still polite and friendly with me, but I always felt that Cathy was more real. She sure was hard to talk to, though. I was getting pretty good with my people skills from talking with her.

I nearly missed my stop, and had to stand up real quick to get out the door. I even dropped a few of my papers, and an old man had to tap me on the shoulder to show me he picked up a paper of mine. "Thanks, sir," I said quickly, before darting out the door to the hospital.

"Hi there, Mr. Saunders," I said pleasantly to him as I came into the cafe area. He looked up from the cash register, and nodded at me.

"Hello there, Ponyboy. How're you?"

"Good," I chimed in. I walked back into the kitchen, when Mr. Saunders stopped me.

"Actually, Ponyboy ... we're short on waiters today since Cathy isn't here - you wouldn't mind, would you? You can keep the tips." He looked back down to count the bills, like he wasn't even expecting me to say no. I wouldn't have anyway, but I was curious,

"Wait, where's Cathy?" I cocked an eyebrow. Part of me was disappointed, another part relieved. Sometimes it was just awkward between us when she didn't want to talk with me, and it was tiring trying to get answers out of her.

He shrugged. "Sounded real upset on the phone, said she couldn't come into work today." Upset?

"Oh," I said, confused. "Well, alright. What do I do?"

Mr. Saunders explained everything to me - where to check off the boxes, where to bring the orders to, and even how to get the people to leave quicker. I wasn't too concerned with Cathy - sure, I was upset she was sad, but I figured there was nothing I could do.

Little did I know at the time that this was going to be the one thing I would do - this one, scatterbrained, idiotic thing - to win her over finally, and prove Two-Bit right. I just didn't know what I was doing at the time.

* * *

Guys, please bear with me. This IS the last ... blah chapter. I swear, the next seven chapters are very epic. See that cliffhanger? It all gets crazy from here ...

Happy December 5th, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	22. Ring Of Fire

**(author's note):**

Eep! Sorry about this. Chapter 23 is done and almost fully beta...fied (?), so you'll have that soon. Like, within a few days. And I'm already writing 24, so we're in good shape I think. The plan is to finish before my birthday (February 1st), so ... let's hope I finish by then.

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own The Outsiders or These Days - Hinton and Bon Jovi do.

Love to Dee for beta reading. And OMFG, 100 reviews - very amazing! And a hundred bajillion hugs TO my hundredth reviewer. Maiza, I love you very much. :)

* * *

x- Don't you know that all my heroes died?  
And I guess I'd rather die than fade away.

These days are fast. Love don't last in this graceless age.  
Even innocence has caught the morning train.  
And there ain't nobody left but us these days. -x

* * *

It was finally Friday, and I mostly thought about this while I walked to school that day. Midterms would be coming up soon, and Darry probably wouldn't so much as let me leave my room two weeks beforehand, so I could forget about going out anywhere. I sighed, looking at the scenery ahead of me. My school was situated in the nicer part of town, on the higher end of the middle class neighborhoods. No one ever really bugged me a lot on the way there, and it was nice seeing how the people changed. Instead of the shifty-eyed hoods and the occasional panhandler, you saw a lot more families - Moms rolling strollers down the sidewalk to the park, men in business suits walking to their offices. Sometimes it was just nice to get away - and sometimes I wished I could be part of it.

I finally got to school, when I heard someone call out my name. "Hey, Mark," I greeted, when I turned around to see my friend waltzing towards me, looking more than pleased with himself. "Why're you so happy?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he chortled, jumping up and punching me on the shoulder. "It's a good day is all. A real good day."

"It's barely eight in the morning, Mark," I grumbled, never being a morning person myself. "It's ain't a good day until it's half-way over."

Mark waved me off, still grinning. "You're so _negative_, Curtis. You just gotta make the best outta stuff, you know? Like me, for example. I'm a real good role model to follow."

"Yeah." I rubbed my eyes, sighing. "You're practically the epitome of optimism."

Mark blinked. I wasn't sure he knew what 'epitome' meant, but I knew he wouldn't admit it. He just shrugged it off, and we walked up to the school together. "You see Terry and Greg lately, man?"

"Nup." I shook my head. "I've been keepin' busy, I guess."

Mark's eyes danced. "Oh, yeah. I've been keeping busy too - I'm practically a superhero these days."

"What do you mean?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow.

"Well ..." he started, cocking his head. He was obviously dying to tell someone, but he was keeping it real cool. "Let's just say I got some revenge on someone that was due for it."

"Mark ..."

"Oh, you worry too much, Curtis. Don't you worry your pretty little head, kid. Your buddy here, he got everything under control. Now let's go get ourselves a good education, whaddya say?"

"Yeah, alright," I relented, really not feeling up for arguing anymore at that point. We passed by a few people up the stairs, and I caught a few sentences of someone's conversation,

"Angela? Her hair looks _fantastic_. I never would've -"

Mark sped up a little, and I had to stride further to catch up. He busted out laughing as soon as we were out of earshot of that girl. "Mark? What - ?"

He shook his head, still laughing. He supported himself by leaning on his thighs, and waved a hand at me. "Never mind, man."

I shrugged it off. Then I remembered something. Angela ... "Hey, Mark?" He looked up, still grinning. "How - how are you doing, man?"

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "I told you, Curtis. I'm doing real swell - heck I might even -"

"No, nothing like that." I shook my head. "I mean, I've just heard things ..." I was thinking of what Curly was saying the other night. It felt like everyone was up to no good - and it was hard to figure out who could be helped, and who was too far gone. I thought of Randy, and I wished I could've helped him. I glanced back at Mark, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"What're you, my mother?" he said sorely. "I'm fine, man. There's nothing wrong. Who told you that, anyway? Why do you _care_?"

"I'm just worried," I put in quickly. I could see he was getting mad - he didn't explode like some people did when they were upset. He'd just put on a real mean look, and be really cold with you. "I -" I stopped myself. I _did _sound like a wuss - I knew guys who were jailed weekly, who did outrageous, insane things and I didn't even give a second glance at it. Why should I even lecture Mark, then? Was it any of my business? "Never mind." He visibly relaxed. I noticed how he didn't look too good. He seemed tense - his eyes had shadows under them. "You just need to take care of yourself," I echoed Two-Bit. "Don't worry about anyone else."

_"_Don't _care?_" I met Mark's gaze again, and knew this was the wrong thing to say. I gulped, as I saw that fire in his eyes burn. "I have people depending on me, Curtis. I have to care. I know that's not the same with you - big brothers always there to protect you, look out for you - you never fail to mention how much your older brother does for you. But it ain't as easy for us _regular _people - we don't all have people we can go to get us out of shit." I felt a little wounded by that. Mark was hardly ever nasty - and I knew that I had struck something.

"Mark -"

"Shut up, man. I need to get to class," Mark seethed before making his way down the hall. The bell rang, and even though the hallway was full of people, I felt very alone.

~/~

I had spent break with Terry and Greg, who complained that I never go out anymore. I started to explain to them that I couldn't. I had a part-time job now, schoolwork, and Darry was starting to breathe down my neck about studying for midterms. I stopped at the part with Darry, the comment from Mark still fresh in my mind. Did I complain about Darry too much, even after what happened last year? After I promised Sodapop we'd stop fighting?

I felt horribly guilty just then, as I remembered all the times I'd quietly complain to Sodapop about Darry. What had I been thinking? I had this twisted logic that as long as Darry and I weren't battling it out with each other, I technically _wasn't _breaking my promise to Sodapop. But what had I accomplished by going behind Darry's back to complain to _Soda? _The whole reason we agreed was for my middle brother. I wished Soda had told me to shut up every once and a while then. I resented him for being so patient with me. I still do.

"Alright, fine," I said coolly. "Tomorrow then?"

"Right, tomorrow," Terry answered, taking a swig out of my Pepsi bottle. "If that's alright with_ big brother _of course." His lips curled into a smirk. I knew then that I probably talked more about Darry than I should've. Is that how everyone took it? Me bragging about how much my brother cares about me? How could things have turned out so _wrong_?

"Who cares?" I grumbled. Terry exchanged a knowing glance with Greg, and it made me madder still. _Jerks._

~/~

By the time I got to English class, I was already in a pretty crummy mood. I plopped down in my desk next to Margaret, not really caring if my books slammed down on the desk or not. Margaret glanced at my books, back to me. "Is something wrong, Ponyboy?"

I looked over at her, shocked she'd noticed. "I'm alright, Margaret. It's just been a bad day."

She smiled sweetly. "Well, at least it's Friday, right?" She started doodling on her notebook, crossing her legs. "Doing anything fun this weekend?"

I shrugged. "Usual, probably. Studying. Might go hang out with friends. See a movie."

"Oh?" she questioned, her interest perked. "That sounds like fun."

"Hmmm." I sighed. Why were girls so hard to talk to? They were just so enthusiastic about everything. Except for Cathy. I decided that her cold attitude was something to be valued, even though I had just been complaining about it earlier. Then Mr. Allen walked in the room, and I turned away - spared of making small talk with Margaret longer than I had to.

"Please open up your books to chapter 2 and answer these open-ended questions. Cite quotes, and due by the end of class."

The whole class groaned in unison.

I looked in my book bag to find my copy of _Hard Times, _which was by Charles Dickens. It was pretty good, but it was kind of hard to read. I remembered reading another book by him last year, which I liked too. The ending was sad for the main character though, I remember, because he lost the girl who wound up marrying his uncle. I searched for it at least three times before I realized it wasn't there. "Mr. Allen?" I raised my hand. He glanced up, nodding questionably. "I can't find my book."

"Uh ..." He seemed to be searching for a solution.

"He could use my book," Margaret piped up. "I have two copies." Mr. Allen and I both looked confused. The whole class was turned to her now, and she flushed. "I - I bought another one so I could take notes in it," she explained quickly, before handing me the book.

"Thank-you, Margaret," Mr. Allen drawled before turning back to his work.

"Thanks," I whispered. She smiled.

"No problem."

Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

~/~

I had work after school that day. Track for the fall had ended, and wouldn't start up again until the Spring so the only other option was going home if I wasn't working. I didn't really mind going to work, even though lots of kids were looking forward to relaxing at home. Home wasn't the most relaxing place in the world. I felt lonely most of the time, to tell you the truth. I missed the noise and people. Heck, even Darry being home might make things more durable.

I hopped off the bus, and made my way to the hospital's ground floor. I walked in, and saw Cathy already there, stacking napkins. She looked terrible. Not terrible as in ugly - but she just looked real tired and upset. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I wasn't sure how to word it right.

"Hey, Cathy." She ignored me, and went straight on with putting the napkins in the dispensers.

I sighed, and went back to the kitchen where the other busboy was. Cathy came in a few minutes later, slapping an order down on the counter before leaving without saying a word. I could tell it was going to be a long shift.

I worked until six thirty that day, and was just about getting my coat on when I saw Cathy sitting in a booth by herself, twirling the straw in her glass of water. I convinced myself to go over there finally, and slid in across from her quickly, before she could protest. "Um, are you alright?"

She sighed, resting her head in her hand. "I - no. I'm not."

My heart skipped a beat. Had she broken up with Bryon? "My brother ..." Her voice broke. "M&M. He's missing." Her bottom lip quivered, but she bit back. "We - we were out last night, and I don't know," she whispered. "He jumped out of the car and went with some of his - his _friends," _she hissed out the word. "And he's not back. _Oh._" She dropped her head in her hands, breathing deeply.

I felt disappointed at first that it wasn't her and Bryon breaking up, but quickly swallowed it down when I heard her brother ran away. I was taken back to when I ran away last year. I know that most people don't have my sort of rotten luck, but I couldn't help it. I was scared for him. I was pretty sure he was younger than fourteen too. "Do you have any idea where he is?" I asked, thinking of those friends. "With his friends?"

"No! Don't you think I'd _find _him if I had any idea - ?" she cut herself off. "I'm sorry, Ponyboy. You're being so nice, and I shouldn't be so mean. But I am because I'm just scared, and I really don't care if you hate me right now or not." My eyebrows shot up - she sure didn't have a censor on her mouth.

"I don't know where he is. Bryon doesn't, Mark doesn't ... no one does. Oh, I'm so worried! He's just a baby, and those kids he was with - they're so bad. I could tell."

"It's not all about looks, you know," I said sorely, remembering how greasers used to be looked down because of our looks. But now everyone was looking more the same nowadays.

She looked angry. "Don't get all compassionate with me - I _know _that. God, I love him so much, and I don't care if his hair was down to his butt, I'd still love him. I just." She wiped angrily at her eyes. "M&M's not _like _those hippies - he's so smart, and I just don't want to see him get hurt."

I thought of Randy again, and I knew I had to help her find M&M. "I'll help you look for him." She looked wary, almost hostile. "I mean, I'll look with the guys - I know a lot of different people who might've seen him." For some reason, Curly popped up right in my head first. Two-Bit mightk now. I could ask Cherry too. Terry, Mark, Greg ...

Her face softened. "Would you?"

I nodded. "Of course. I mean, I ran away last year too ..." I stopped, but she looked intrigued. "I mean, it wasn't really running away. But anyway, it's scary. It's real scary." She nodded.

"I never knew that. You seem like such a well-adjusted kid." I blushed. "I mean, you're very popular in school. I'm always hearing about you. Sometimes I feel a little intimidated coming here." She blushed now. "I feel like you're just polite with me, but you wouldn't talk to me normally. I'm lucky, I guess. I've been very lucky."

My jaw almost dropped. She thought she was lucky for me talking to her? If only she knew ... "I like talking to you, Cathy. You're a cool girl." I wondered if that was saying too much.

She smiled again. Gosh, she was pretty. "And you're a cool boy, Ponyboy. You know, Bryon doesn't like you very much at all - and I thought you were sort of stuck up before." She patted my hand. "I'm glad to see I was wrong."

We didn't talk much after that, but we really didn't have to. We were finally on the same page with each other, and I couldn't have been more grateful.

~/~

That night, before I went to bed, I made a phone call to Terry.

"Terry? Look man, I'm not going to be able to come with you and Greg tomorrow. What? Something came up man, I know ... I'm sorry."

Glory, what was happening to me?

* * *

**Happy December 23rd my readers (anyone still in school? I am.). Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well. **


	23. Mirrors

**(author's note):**

Chapter 23 is here. We're making good progress people. Very good progress. :)

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own, Hinton & Better Than Ezra do.

Thanks Dee - and thanks to my reviewers. I love you guys. So much.

* * *

x- Searching for signs of life, but there's nobody home. -x

* * *

I wasn't sure where exactly I was going to _start __looking _for this kid, and I was almost starting to regret telling Cathy I'd help find him. I needed to stop doing that. Talking without thinking, I mean. I knew I couldn't ask Mark for help this time; I wasn't sure he was ready to forgive me, and I wasn't too keen on forgiving him either. So what if I had a brother like Darry? Since when was the family I was born into my fault?

I was circling around The Ribbon, down to the bowling alley, movie house - even uptown. The only place I didn't dare snoop around was near Buck's or the one place I was pretty sure M&M would be - the hippie complexes.

These complexes weren't anything out of the ordinary from the regular apartment buildings. Except that _everyone _knew about them, and you only went down there if you were using or pushing - anyone else was just looking for trouble. I was hoping that M&M wouldn't be there. I had only seen him a few times, but I knew right away that he wouldn't do well there. He was soft. He was like I used to be - that place would break him for sure.

It was about mid-day by the time I went around to the factory where Two-Bit was working. I figured he'd be on his break soon, and sure enough I was only waiting there near the backdoor for ten minutes before I heard a familiar laugh. I glanced up to see Two-Bit joking around with some older guy - probably in his thirties. I waved to him and he came over right away, excusing himself.

"Hey hey, Ponyboy," he greeted me cheerfully. "Long time no see huh, kid?"

"Hi Two-Bit," I said quietly. "How's it hanging?"

"Good." He nodded. "You on break from school, or somethin'? Here, sit down in my office, Mr. Curtis." He gestured jauntily to the turned over milk crate on the side, and took out his lunch. He took out an orange and started peeling it. I would've fallen over my crate under normal circumstances at seeing Two-Bit eating something healthy for once, but I was deflated and tired. And it was barely noon.

"It's Saturday, Two-Bit," I said sourly, tracing my tennis shoe into the dusty ground.

"Oh, sorry kid. The days kinda get away from you when you're not in school - I'm thinkin' of going back there, you know. Once Mama gets better'n all. I know some guys that'll get me a better job if I got myself a high school diploma."

"That's great!" I exclaimed, breaking out of my stupor and grinning. "Wow, that's real great, Two-Bit." He just beamed, and a broke a slice off of his orange, handing it to me.

"Yeah, yeah - my life's full of sunshine and butterflies. So what's eating you kid?" Good ol' Two-Bit. I knew there was a reason why I came to him.

"Not much. Remember that girl I told you about?" He nodded slowly, as if trying to remember and then it clicked.

"Oh yeah - Cathy. Right?" I nodded too, sucking on my orange.

"Mmhmm. Well, her brother's missing." Two-Bit's eyebrows shot up. "I mean, he ran away. And this kid ..." I sighed. "This kid's a mess, man. He's one of those flower children, y'know? Long hair, dreamy eyes, no common sense. I'm worried, real worried."

"Okay. Go on."

"Well, I told her I'd help look for him." Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Well, what else was I supposed to say? The kid could get hurt. I mean, he's just so ... he's like ... I mean, I can't explain, you'd just have to -"

"-Know him well enough?" Two-Bit supplied, looking so amused that the smirk on his face could be seen a mile away. "Real ... indescribable?"

"Yeah." I nodded, not seeing his point. I waited. "Well?"

"Well what?" he asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

"What's the joke? There's something I'm not getting?" He burst out laughing, and I felt sore again. "C'mon Two-Bit. I ain't laughing."

"Ponyboy, this kid sounds exactly like _you. _Heck, you even have experience runnin' away. Glory kid ..." He shook his head, and got serious suddenly. "I'm just thinking ... imagine if you were a year younger and last year never happened. You were never part of the whole greaser rough and tumble lifestyle. Do you think ...?"

"I ... I never really," I stammered. The kid _did _act like I used to. But I never thought ... I always condemned my lifestyle growing up. I had learned long ago that fighting wasn't any good. And that cutthroat rivalry between _social classes _seemed like the dumbest thing ever - I never would've been thankful of my childhood ... unless Two-Bit was right. Didn't having an enemy keep me sharp? Alert? My best friends had died because of it ... but I was still here, wasn't I?

I figured it had something to do with what Two-Bit had said two weeks ago. Then was the time of comradeship - everyone had your back, because the enemy was huge and faceless; we had to fight together. But now ... everyone looked the same. The enemy changed from person to person. We were all alone, and I suddenly realized that I had it a lot better than this kid.

I knew then that I had to find him. I needed to help him, because - except for Cathy, her parents, and maybe M&M's friends - no one would look for him.

"I ... I gotta go, Two-Bit." I hopped up, popping the last part of orange in my mouth.

"What?" Two-Bit exclaimed. "You just got here! Look kid, did I say something - ?"

"No ..." I stumbled, realizing my shoelace was tangled in the crate's holes. "I mean, yes. Well, sorta. I just - I just realized something." I freed my shoe. "I'll see you later, okay?" I called back as I jogged away from the factory, leaving a bewildered Two-Bit behind.

~/~

I was just about ready to call it a day, and maybe still get back my plans to go out with Terry and Greg. The whole day had been a bust, and I felt like such a clueless moron asking around for a kid I barely even knew. Sure, I had asked Cathy a little about him to tell people, but who was I, Sherlock Holmes? I sighed, turning a side corner, and went down one side of the street, looking in on the windows. As I was looking in the window of one restaurant, I was a little shocked to see Evie wiping down tables, before I realized I had wandered off to where she worked.

She didn't notice me, but kept scrubbing it down and crushed a used straw paper in her other fist. I walked inside, hearing the small chime of a bell on top of the door. "Hi, Evie," I greeted her, and her head popped up when she heard her name.

"Ponyboy ...?" She frowned, looking confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm just - " I started.

"Oh, no Ms. Evelyn." I spun around to see a middle-aged waitress looking at me disapprovingly. "I don't want to see anymore of your boyfriends staying here talking without buying nothing." Evie blushed, looking mad at the same time.

"He's not my boyfriend. I don't - I mean ..." Her brow furrowed, her eyes becoming slits. "Don't go spreading rumors about me."

"Alright," she sighed. "But he has to buy something if he wants to stay." Evie looked at me dubiously, as if not caring if I was staying or going.

"Okay ... I'll take a Pepsi." I shrugged, and sat down at the bar. Evie nodded, looking a little mad, but I figured now was a good time to talk.

"Hey, Evie?" She turned from where she was getting the drink.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you hang up on the phone a few weeks ago after I read you Steve's letter?" She took in a sharp breath when I mentioned his name. She ran her finger around the glass's rim where the drink had overflown and licked it.

"I ... I don't know."

She handed me my Pepsi, and I gave her a quarter. "You can keep it," I said when she went to go get me my change.

"Don't be getting all sweet on me now, kid. Just because Laura back there makes it seem like I'm a whore, don't mean I really am."

"Yeah, what was that all about?" I questioned, getting bolder by the minute.

She seethed. "She doesn't understand. She just can't understand. You must, don't you? With Soda being in the - hey, how is Soda? I'm too afraid to write to him after how Steve reacted to me pestering you." I winced. She had seen right through my sugar-coated story. "But I do want to know. He was such a nice guy. When Steve and me would fight, he'd always let Sandy break off her plans with him so she could comfort me. Such a nice guy," she repeated. Then she was silent. Was she thinking about Steve? Soda? Or even Sandy?

"Hmm." I nodded. "So you _don't _have a new boyfr -" I cut off when she slammed her rag down on the table.

"He doesn't think I'm being supportive at _all _of this goddamned war because I can't stand waiting around for him!" She looked mad now. By this point, most girls would be crying, but she just looked angry. "And it's not even that," she said softly. "If anything happened to him I don't know what I'd do. I just don't want to get hurt. And you know Steve ... he expands every stupid little thing into something so much bigger. If I can't stand not knowing how he is, he takes it like I don't want to wait around anymore. And it's not that. I just ..."

"It's a lot for a nineteen year old girl to deal with," I supplied for her, sipping on my soda. "Right?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry for this, Pony." She rubbed her face. "I don't usually do this with people. I just can't tell anyone else; they'd either tell me to forget about him, which I can't. Or they'd do what Laura does, and think I should support him for fighting this damned war. You know." Her lips curled. "I don't even know where Vietnam is?"

I was shocked to realize I didn't know either. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"Yes, very strange," she whispered. "So very strange."

I finished my drink, playing with the straw. "Well, sorry about that Evie. I hope he comes home." As much as I didn't like Steve before, I wanted to see him again. I hoped he would come home just as much as I hoped Sodapop would.

"Me too." She nodded, smiling. "Oh, and Ponyboy?"

I turned around. "Yeah?"

"Eighteen." She smiled coyly. "I'm not even nineteen yet."

Sodapop was barely eighteen, Steve wouldn't be nineteen until April. They were getting kids to fight a man's war. I wondered if it was the same on Vietnam's side - if the brothers and sisters and girlfriends of those soldiers sat around thinking about their loved ones like Evie and I were doing. "It's a shame," I said slowly. I was thinking that last part out loud, but Evie seemed to understand, even if it was out of context.

"It is."

I started walking towards the door with Evie, and asked one more question, "If you were a thirteen-year old boy in this day and age, where would you run away to?"

She blinked. "You couldn't have picked a more difficult profile to fit, could you?" She cocked her eyebrow. "Seeing as I am neither a boy _nor _thirteen, I can tell you truthfully, I have no blessed clue, honey."

I sighed. "Well ... thanks, Evie." She nodded.

"Thanks to you too, Pony. Will you - ? Never mind." She shook her head. "It's best I don't know. I'm gonna keep praying until he comes home though. Until they _all _come home. I hope this war ends soon."

"Me too, Evie. Me too." I walked out the door, back to the streets of Tulsa. Even though I hadn't gotten any lead on M&M, I felt more enlightened somehow. Less alone. It was good to know that I wasn't the only one praying; that even in this kind of tragedy, we could still find people in the same boat as us.

~/~

The next day I agreed with Terry and Greg to go out near The Ribbon. I wasn't done looking for M&M, but I needed a break and a chance to figure out where to look next anyway.

"Hey Curtis, what were you doing last night, anyway?" Terry asked me, as we walked away from two guys who started talking with him.

"Not much. Homework, mostly," I lied smoothly.

"Oh, what happened to not caring about big brother, Baby Curtis?" Greg smirked.

"Darry didn't tell me to do it. I just did it myself. Look, I was busy, feeling sick, tired. I'm sure you missed me plenty, anyway."

"Oh, yeah - about that ... " And Terry launched into a story about last night at some hangout. I wasn't listening anymore. I was feeling a little tired. We kept walking, when we met up with some other guys we knew from school. I wasn't really in the mood for talking, and since the last time I was at The Ribbon with those two, I wound up with a girl I barely even knew, I decided I'd just walk around and look at all the sights.

I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I looked over, and saw no one. Confused, I turned to my other side and saw Curly grinning widely. "Curly!" I exclaimed. "What're you doing?"

He shrugged, looking a little dazed. He seemed to be teetering, and I wondered if he was drunk. "You alright, Shepard?" I asked, going to steady him. He flung my arm away, and glared.

"You know ... strange thing happened - Angel came home on Thursday night ... but something was off." I blinked. "Do you know what it was?"

I shook my head. "No, why?"

"Her hair was gone. Said someone cut it off'a her. Said it was _Douglas._"

I cocked an eyebrow unsuccessfully. "... Oh, _Bryon_?"

"Yeah, know where he might be?" I shook my head. "Aw, c'mon Curtis. Be a pal. We were buddies way before you and Jennings were. 'Member when we played chicken that one time?" He held up a finger. "Still got the scar." I laughed at that, but shook my head.

"Curly, I don't know where he is. I'm sorry." Suddenly he hit me across the face so I fell right into the side of the building we were next to. I thanked God that people weren't paying attention.

"Don't ... you ... bullshit with me, Curtis," he snarled. "Don't show any _loyalty _to those losers. Us, we've fought together 'n everything. And that little shit's been dancin' on my nerves for _too _long. I'm going to find him, and make him pay. It's only fair, Curtis. Eye for an eye, right? I ain't being cruel or mean to Douglas. Soon as he pays up, I'll leave him be - I won't do shit with him if he stays the fuck away from me."

I inwardly rolled my eyes. Curly did have a point, but people never played fair. He didn't play fair, and I knew that beating up Bryon didn't equal cutting off Angela's hair - it didn't work that way. "Curly," I pleaded. "I'd _tell _you, alright? I would, but I don't know where he is. I'm not even friends with Bryon, and Mark's angry with me right now."

He calmed down, his dark eyes still glittering. "Heard about that kid going missing. That flower kid, uh ..."

"M&M," I said quickly. Did Curly know where he is? "Curly, do you - ?"

"I could take a guess," he admitted. "But it wouldn't mean good for him, I'll tell you that much."

"Curly," I interrupted him. He seemed real out of it, and I was worried for him too. "I know you don't like the kid, but he - he's the brother of one of my friend's, and she's -"

"Carlson, right?" he asked curiously, tilting his head looking off in the distance. "Yeah, Douglas's girl. Yeah."

"_Yes,_" I said slowly. I felt like I was the only sane one left. Everyone else around me was going under, and I couldn't stop it. "Where do you think - ?"

"Huh. Didn't know you two were friends."

"_Curly,_" I snapped. "This is important. Glory, man ... he's just a kid!"

"Yeah ..." he mumbled. "I miss being a kid."

"You're a kid too," I snapped again. "But if he's in trouble -"

"I have no idea where he is exactly. But I know where he could be." He nodded, shoving his hands in his leather jacket.

"Are you going to tell me, or play twenty questions with me?" I was glaring at him, and he tilted his head. Dark curls cascaded over his forehead. His eyes seemed to glow in the dimming light.

"You don't trust me."

"Hell no." I shook my head, fed up with him. "You're insane. Off your rocker. I don't need your help." I turned away, and Curly didn't call me back. He was whistling to himself - an old song that I vaguely remembered.

I didn't look back.

~/~

Later that night, Cathy called me at home asking if I had any idea where M&M might be.

I didn't tell her about my conversation with Curly.

We talked for a little while, but I had a feeling she was getting uncomfortable talking to a guy on the phone who wasn't her boyfriend. She had already apologized for being so unconventional, saying how she never had a boyfriend before and didn't know how to act. Last night I told her that it was okay, I didn't know how to act around girls either because I had never had a girlfriend. She really got a kick out of that.

I guess I hadn't realized how other people saw me. I knew that I was well-known from the events last year, but the magnitude of what people thought of me coming from Cathy's perspective was too much.

"A lot of people look up to you," she explained. "Lots of the people I know at least _know _your name. Something about last year?"

There was silence after that. Did she know everything? "Well, they're just silly rumors. I don't pay much attention to them."

Should I tell her? What would she have thought of me if I did? "You don't have to tell me, of course. I mean, if it's personal ..."

"No," I broke in quickly before I lost my nerve. "There's not a lot to say, I guess. I didn't do much. I got jumped last year by these So- guys, and almost died. My friend saved me, but ended up killing one of them. He died later, though. There were some kids in a fire, and he saved them but couldn't get out in time ... He was sixteen years old." I didn't feel like making myself out to be a hero. How can I choose who I'd rather have saved? If I hadn't entered that burning building, those kids probably would've died, but Johnny and Dallas wouldn't have. But how did I know the fire-fighters weren't coming? What if the fire stopped? Or if the kids found another way out?

I sighed on the phone as Cathy digested this. "... Cathy?" I said softly, hoping she hadn't hung up.

"That's ... incredible," she finally breathed. "You've been through a lot, haven't you Ponyboy?"

"You could say that." I fidgeted uncomfortably, thankful she couldn't see how flushed my face looked.

"I never would've realized there was much more to you than just a quiet, good-looking kid. You have an interesting story. I'd like to hear more of it sometime, if you don't mind."

She was the second person who I ever wanted to tell my story to. Mr. Syme was the first. "Maybe I'll tell you sometime."

"Maybe I'll be listening. _Click._"

I was starting to understand Sodapop a lot better than I had before.

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Happy December 23rd, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	24. Middleman

**I'm in a rush - but here's the next two chapters. Hinton owns, I don't - thanks Dee!**

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I had barely walked through the doors of school that Monday morning when someone grabbed my arm and practically tore it off dragging me down the hall. "What the hell ... ?" I protested, before realizing who it was. Greg.

"What is it?" I asked, frowning. Greg didn't usually come up to me in the hallway to talk or anything - that was usually reserved for Terry, Mark, and some of my other track buddies. I looked again, and noticed he looked to be in shock. "Hey, man ... what happened?"

"You didn't hear what happened last night?" Greg pushed on with the questions, cocking an eyebrow. "Bryon's in the hospital." I blinked. "Bryon? Douglas? As in, Mark's brother, Bryon?"

It clicked. "Oh ... " I said softly, and Greg snorted at my delayed reaction. "Golly, that's terrible - how?"

He only said one word. "Shepards."

I felt my blood run cold - Curly? Or Tim? Or maybe just one of their other cronies. We started walking down the hall, and I spluttered out my questions. "Wha - ? But ... how bad is he? Which Shepards? _Why_?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, man. Just wanted to come tell you before you found Mark - he's madder 'n a hornet right now. I went up to him, asking him how ol' Bryon was. Nearly ripped my head off!" I inwardly rolled my eyes, somehow knowing that Greg had probably asked a lot more than just how Bryon was - Mark wasn't one to lose his cool, and Greg was one to be a smartass sometimes. He kind of reminded me of Steve in that sense.

"Okay ... " I started slowly, nearly knocking into someone. "So the Shepard gang jumped Bryon ... ?"

"Curly," he said dully. I gulped, feeling a hard lump in my throat. "And his brother. Tim." I felt my blood run colder - I could only imagine how bad Bryon was if Tim had gotten a hold of him. I didn't know Tim too well, but I knew he was just as bad as Dallas had been, maybe even worse. I didn't think he lost his temper as easily as Dally did; I always thought that just made him more dangerous.

"Why?"

He shrugged again, and we stopped outside my first period class door. "Hey, I don't know - just wanted to spread the word, I guess. I heard that - " He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I heard that it was _Bryon _who cut off Angel's hair, y'know?"

I wrinkled my brow. "Why'd he do something dumb like that?"

"They're exes, aren't they? I heard that she dumped him, and I mean ... have you seen that chick?" He whistled. "I'd be plenty steamed if I lost _that_ too."

I shook my head, but then the bell rang. "Maybe," I said doubtfully. "Well, see you, Greg."

"See you, Baby Curtis."

I winced slightly as I shut the door behind me. I should've been expecting that.

~/~

I didn't meet Two-Bit at break that day, but went instead to find Mark. I knew where he went usually - sometimes he went back home, but other times he'd hang out near the track field, in a corner where the bleachers met the entryway back into the school building. "Mark," I called out when I saw the familiar mass of gold hair. He was alone that day, sitting on the bleachers and smoking. I came up closer even when he didn't acknowledge me.

"Mark?"

His knees were propped up on the bleacher in front of him, and he gnawed on his fingernails of his left hand - his right one held his cigarette. He flicked his glance towards me. His eyes were dark and swimming - almost like shadows were crossing over them. "Yeah?" he croaked out.

"Mark, buddy ... " I came over and he scooted over so I could sit by him. I looked out at the field for a minute, then turned to him. "How are you?"

He licked his lips, taking in a shaky breath. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Man, you can tell me ... " I pleaded with him, nudging his arm. How could such little time have changed so much? I hardly recognized him anymore. "Mark?"

"It's my fault," he sighed. "It's all my fault."

"What's your fault, man?"

He looked at me, and I think that would be the only moment I ever saw the real Mark Jennings shine through. "Everything." He closed his eyes, looking in an odd sort of peace. Almost like a trance. "Pony, man? Do me a favor, will you kid?"

"Yeah, okay. What is it?"

"Grow up faster, kid. I don't ever want to see anything like this happen to you. I think we're all in the middle of a change, and it ain't a good change. You get out of here as fast as you can," he told me, wagging his finger. He swallowed. "And don't you look back, you fucking bastard. You _lucky _bastard, you. You hear me?"

"Mark, what's this all about?"

"Shut up, Curtis. And get out of here ... Go ... go pass that test or something. Make the track team. Pray for that big brother of yours. Just get out of here now, Curtis - 'cause if you end up like all these burnouts and losers, don't bet that people are gonna save you - cause they're not." He layed down on the bench then, and I left him just like he had asked me to.

I looked at him then, and I think it was that moment that I knew I'd never forget Mark. He had always been my pal, my buddy - no more than that. I had never placed more to him than just that - my cheerful, reckless but always exciting friend. I hadn't realized how much he had at stake, being who he was. I guess it was then that I realized that there were a lot of people like Mark. They weren't looking for some miracle to come save them, but they sure hadn't given up on it either. He was somewhere in between, Mark. He was just stuck there. In the middle of the tide.

I wanted to help him - I wanted to save him so badly just then. But then I realized something else. He was broken. He was broken just like all of the other juvenile delinquents that we both had grown up with. Even though he was my friend, he wasn't any different. I felt so helpless then - like there wasn't anything I could've done for him. Maybe there wasn't anything that anyone could've done.

Maybe that's what Bryon was thinking too.

~/~

"Hey, Darry - can I ask you something?" I walked into the living room later that night. Darry was sitting in his chair, propping his head in one hand, reading an old book. He looked up and frowned.

"Pone? It's near eleven. Go to sleep, kid," he said softly, closing his book. He paused. "It can't wait until tomorrow?"

"It's really bothering me," I said apologetically. It wasn't like I had woken him up or anything though. He was just reading.

He nodded, and gestured to the couch. "Okay, uh ... what's up?" I could tell he felt awkward. I usually would've gone to Soda for advice, and I think Darry knew that too.

I tried to tell myself that he was still my brother, it wasn't that awkward. It didn't work out too well. "Okay, so there's this girl ... " His eyebrows shot up, "and we're really good _friends, _but her little brother ran away a few days ago. I told her I'd help look for him, you know? But ... well, it hasn't been easy."

"Okay, so?" Darry shrugged. "You tried, Ponyboy. He's not your responsibility."

"I know that, Dare," I snapped. I rubbed my face with my hand. "I just ... I feel so _bad." _Darry didn't say anything. "I mean, I ran away last year and look what happened to me. Someone should help him, is all."

"Pony ... " he sighed. "You can't help him if you can't find him. This stuff happens."

"Well, it could've happened to me too," I challenged, glaring. "You'd sure be singing a different tune if anything had happened to me last time, wouldn't you?" He winced, and I felt a little bad. But just a little. "Everyone keeps saying that. It's none of my business, there's no good helping people. Well ... I want to. Or no one else will."

He shook his head, looking annoyed now. "So what's the point of you coming here exactly?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You're not asking me anything - you're just telling me that you're going to go do something that I can't possibly agree to, just so I have to fight with you again. _Everything _has to be a goddamn fight with you, Ponyboy!" he snapped.

"Darry, no ... " I waved my hand. "I mean, well ... I have an idea where someone could look for him. I'm just asking ... if there was a chance that you could save a kid, but it'd require trusting someone that you don't ... would you do it?"

Darry set his jaw tight, thinking. "Back then, when I was your age ... probably no." My heart sank. "But you've always been a better person than me. Maybe you don't use your head as much as you should, but I think you are ... " I blinked at him in shock. "I mean, I still think of how you jumped in that burning church to save those little kids. I'm not sure if I would've done it."

"I wasn't thinking," I mumbled. "Maybe I wouldn't have done it if I knew what was going to happen."

"Yeah, maybe ... " he said softly. "But maybe that's not a bad thing. That you follow your gut sometimes, kid. You saved five little kids. You might save this one. I just ... I don't want to see you get hurt. Who is this guy you have to trust, anyway?"

"Friend of mine," I answered smoothly. "No one you know. But he's a good guy. Just a little messed up. So should I do it?"

"Pone," Darry started. "I know you want to help people, but the fact is you can't. Help everyone, that is. Sometimes you have to be selfish to survive. Please Pony ... " He looked at me seriously. "Don't get into any trouble. Keep your head low. We don't need anymore attention coming to you. Think of social services. Of the thin thread you and me are hanging on - please, kid?"

I hadn't thought of it that way. "Okay, Darry ... I promise." I went to bed shortly afterwards, my mind still not made up completely.

~/~

"Hey, Two-Bit - can I ask you a ques - ?"

"Wait!" Two-Bit shushed me mid-sentence before I had even fully come to a stop. I was visiting him again during break at the factory, and I hadn't thought he'd seen me coming. He closed his eyes, and hummed under his breath. "I see ... I see you asking me a question! Oh, yes ... " He nodded, his eyes still closed. He swirled his hands in circles, like they were giving off magical vibes. "Ohhh, yes. You want to go on a wild goose chase for a little flower power child - "

"Flower power? C'mon, Two-Bit. Did Darry - ?"

"Hush yo' mouth, child. Can't you see I'm having a vision? Predictin' the future ain't too easy, kid. Ahh, yes. And what is this now? I see, it's to impress fair lady that has Mr. Ponyboy Curtis all hot and bothered? Oh, and - "

"Two-Bit!"

"Okay, okay." He relented. "Yeah. Superman told me about it, kid." He pursed his lips into a frown. "And I gotta agree with him there, kiddo. Y'all tryin' too hard to stay together. Specially after Soda left and all - no girl is worth it."

"It's not about a _girl,_" I said sheepishly, rubbing my neck. "I mean ... wait, how did Darry know that I - I mean," I started again, inwardly groaning at the catty grin on Two-Bit's face. "I meant _why _did Darry think that it was about a _girl_? I mean, c'mon ... I can't just want to help out?"

Two-Bit sighed, sitting down on the milk crate he usually sat on. "I mean ... it's alright for you to want to help, kid. Just ... don't do anything dumb is all."

"Define _dumb_."

"How about I put it in simpler terms for you, kid. In _your_ case, I'd say you should ... do the opposite of whatever your brain tells you to do."

"_Two-Bit!_"

"Geesh, kid. Don't flip your lid or anything - I'm just teasin'. Okay, you know what?" He leaned in closer and I followed. "There ain't a lot you can do if this kid's ... y'know, gone under. If that happened, the only way you ever gonna find him again is if you start usin' or you start pushin'. And if I ever find out you doin' either of those, I'll knock so many of your teeth out that your head's gonna think there's a game of Scrabble goin' on in there, you diggin' me kid?"

"Love you too, man."

"Well, go around with people you trust, alright? So who is this person you'd need to ask help for anyway? A buddy of yours?"

"Yeah. Well. No, not really. I guess he's not. It's Curly."

"_Shepard? _Are you insane?"

"It was a bad idea from the start, so I already know there's no way in hell I'd trust him." I looked at his dubious glare. "I'm _serious, _Two-Bit. I mean, c'mon ... Curly Shepard? I don't know what I was thinking. It was dumb. I'm not doing it."

"Good boy." He patted my head, and I flipped him off as I fixed my hair again. He peered at me curiously as I was fixing it.

"I know I'm gonna regret this later, but go with your gut, okay kid? You're ... usually right. On second thought, maybe you shouldn't." I busted out laughing at the suddenly alarmed look on his face. "I'm serious - don't listen to me! Aw, hell - if anything happens to you now I'm gonna feel so guilty. Don't get hurt- - you wouldn't want your old pal Two-Bit to die of a broken heart, now would'ya?"

"Of course not, Two-Bit." I grinned, rolling my eyes. "Of course not."


	25. The Lost Ones

**Chapter 25. Hinton owns. Thanks Dee!**

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"Hi Ponyboy."

I craned my neck to see who had called out my name, and saw a shock of red hair as a girl strode up next me. "Oh. Cherry. Hi."

She twinkled her fingers in that dumb way girls do as a substitute for a wave. She smiled up at me, and I was almost dazzled again by how pretty she was. "How're you? How's school?"

"Good. And good," I chimed in. "How about you?" It was uncomfortable talking to her like this - we had talked with each other so well that night at the Nightly Double. It was strange ... how much could change in a year.

"Oh, really good." She bobbed her head.

"Hmm. So ... what do you need?" I asked, maybe a little too sharply. I was remembering all the times she had blown me off last year.

"Ponyboy ... " she trailed off, putting her hand on my shoulder. I had gotten taller than her in the course of the year. "I wish we could've been friends last year - I wanted to so badly, every time I saw you in the hallway, I ... " she blurted out, her face turning crimson. "I just felt _awful. _I have no excuse - I was terrible, but I didn't think you minded. I mean ... you're such a popular kid, everyone likes you - "

"Yeah," I snorted. "Real popular. Cherry, I'm popular for something I wish never _happened _in the first place. I'd give this all up to have my friends here - and even for you to have Bob again." She bit her lip. "I think about it _all the time. _I do mind. I would've liked having someone who understood it a little."

She looked close to tears now, and I felt awful all over again. "Pony - I'm so sorry!" she blubbered. "I wish I could go back now. I feel so bad. I really do."

"Hey, hey." I patted her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay?" I grinned weakly. "I'm alright _now _- don't get so upset. I'm fine. Really."

She smiled, still looking teary-eyed. "I still feel bad. I wish I was there for you - especially since Randy joined the Flower Child brigade and - "

I stopped listening to her then, suddenly realizing something. _Randy_ was one of these "flower children." I wasn't sure how close together these communes were - I didn't even know where he was. But Cherry might. I remembered what Two-Bit had said, _"Only way you're getting there is if you're pushing or using ... " _

Randy was a hippy. Randy might be able to find M&M.

"Ponyboy ... ?" Cherry asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

"Cherry," I said seriously. "This might sound strange, but I need to ask you a favor ... "

~/~

As it turned out, Cherry didn't ask too many questions when I asked her where I could find Randy.

"I'm sorry, Ponyboy - a few weeks ago, I had no idea where he was. We only kept in contact very seldom. I know that he travelled a lot in his old van nowadays - something about California?" I felt my heart sink. There went that idea; and how did I know that Randy wasn't completely insane by now anyway? "But I know where he hangs out," she finished quickly.

"You do? Cherry, this is really important - "

"I know." She smiled. "You wouldn't be asking me if it wasn't. Okay, here's what I know ...

"He's usually downtown nowadays - closer to the south side. He hangs out ... well, do you know where the old industrial park is, on Morrison?" I shook my head. "It's near the hosptial - about ten minutes away, close to the bowling alley I think - "

"Oh! Yeah, I know of that place." I nodded.

"Well, I know he's there a lot. In fact, he might even be at home." I blinked at her, shocked. His parents were okay with that?

Cherry rubbed her arms. "I'd try both places. If not, I'm sorry. I don't know."

"Thank-you, Cherry," I said gratefully. "Really."

"Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for, Pony."

~/~

I knew I had a problem the minute that I got to the old industrial park. Downtown was pretty far away from Will Rogers so I cut last period so I could get home before dark. Downtown was in the south, and was a sleazier part of town - so it was closer to my neighborhood, but farther from the school. It was a long walk, but Cherry was right. It was easy to find - all I had to do was ask people where I could find Morrison and I just kept walking until I found a mass of brightly colored vans and buses.

This was going to be a problem.

I groaned, completely fed up with this whole investigation. Why did I care so much, anyway? Wasn't I just trying to prove something - that a complete stranger could still care about the well-being of one lost kid? I wanted to prove them all wrong - my brother, Two-Bit, and even Mark. I sat down on the curb, downhearted. But where was I even going to start?

"Hey there, kid - why so down?" I looked up to see a huge blonde hippy towering over me. I froze, almost expecting him to whip out a blade and proceed to jumping me. '_Need a haircut, greaser?' _

_"_Uh ... " I stammered. "I'm lookin' for someone."

The hippy gave me this dazed grin, and I knew he was completely out of it. "Oh, yeaah? Who?"

I sighed. "Randy? Adderson?"

He shook his head. "Nup, dun know him. Maybe my buddies do though. Hey - buddy!" he yelped out to some other guy. This one seemed more sharp, and he nodded to the blonde one.

"Yeah?"

"You know an Adderson 'round here?"

He paused, scrunching up his nose. He came over to us, and I could see his eyes were bloodshot, but he mainly looked tired. "Yeah, I know him. Who wants to know?"

He jerked his thumb to me. "This kid."

"Ponyboy Curtis - I'm a friend of his." The blonde one perked up when I talked.

"Wow, awesome name kid." He smiled. The other one nodded, looking somber.

"I could take you to him - he ain't doin' too well, though."

I followed him, anxious for what we would find.

~/~

"Hey, Rand - friend of yours is here?" I heard mumbling as the guy stuck his head into a van, "No, says his name's Ponyboy? Yeah. Okay." He turned to me. "Said no."

"_No_? Who does he think he is, the goddamn president? Let me in - I don't need no appointment to see him," I growled. I almost wish I had my switch with me - he didn't seem like the type to get scared into submission. He still shook his head.

"No."

"That's bull." I pushed past him, and pounded on the door - the other guy grabbed my other arm. "Randy! Please - I need to ask you something. Please, man - you're my last hope." I might've been laying it on thick, but I was praying to God that he'd open the door soon.

It opened an inch. "Alright. Fine. Come in then, kid."

I wrenched my arm away from the guy and made my way inside.

I was hit by the smell before I had even set foot inside. It was this sickening combination of pot, rotting food, and just odors from living in such a dirty place. I looked around - the van seemed bigger from the outside, and there was barely enough room to walk around in. I looked at Randy, and almost fell over in shock.

The last time I had seen him, he had been well-groomed with a semi-Beatle haircut, sharp clothes and a tough, impassive aura. Now he just looked disheveled. His clothes hung loosely off of his thin frame, his hair had grown to his shoulders and sat in frazzled, tangled clumps - worst of all was his face. He looked about fifteen years older - his face was greasy and sagging, his skin had an unhealthy tinge to it. "Randy?" I asked, and sat down on a pile of newspapers that went back to the summer.

He nodded. "Hey, kid," he croaked. He sat down across from me.

"Randy. Oh, man ... " I shook my head. "What happened?"

He grunted, looking down at the floor. He went up to rub his beard, and shook his head. "Hell if I remember - everything's shot. Everything's gone."

"Randy, you need help." This suddenly wasn't about M&M anymore - but helping a guy who, less than a year ago, I had ended on good terms with. "I mean - "

"Look," he snapped. His dark eyes bore into mine, and suddenly they were cold and defensive again, like he'd come back to life. "You here to lecture me? If you are, then get out - I didn't let you in to get told off."

"No." I stopped. "I'm sorry. I just - I need help."

He laughed humorlessly, and began walking around the van, picking bottles up off one place and throwing them down onto another pile in the corner. "I thought it'd be better ... " he started slowly, more to himself than to me. "It started off great - I just stopped caring so much about the feuding classes after Bob ... " He stopped. "And then there came a new bunch of people who were thinkin' like me. Socs even. I thought we were going to change things." He looked down at the bottle in his hand. "But then we didn't."

"Randy, what're you ... ?"

"I never wanted this," he whispered, looking straight at me. His eyes were so sad and dejected that I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "At first I did, but now I don't. My folks'll never take me back, I've destroyed everything. My whole life. It's just _gone."_

I didn't know what to say. He seemed to be having a moment. I waited. "I'd see you sometimes in the hall, you know," he whispered, looking at me almost with venom. "And Cherry. I saw her too. I remember how bad off you were that day in the car - I thought it was normal for me to not want to get over it. But then you _did _get over it - you started becoming Mr. Popularity. Everyone started looking up to you - you became the hero, your friends ... that Cade kid? And _Winston? _They both became heroes too." He shook his head, his eyes like glittering rocks. "But not Bobby," he croaked out. "Nup. All people seemed to remember of him was that spoiled rich kid who got what was coming to him - I wanted to change how people saw us rich kids; but I didn't want this."

I felt dazed. There he was talking again about people looking up to me - was that really true? _Did _Johnny and Dallas get glorified as heroes? Johnny might've, but surely Dallas wasn't remembered like that. And then I remembered the newspaper article talking of how Dally pulled Johnny out of the building - there was no article talking of Bob being brave; he was just the victim. And later when we testified against him, he became the bad guy. I looked at Randy. "Randy, I'm sorry about that. About everything."

He said nothing.

"But I need your help - there's this kid. Do you know him? His name's M&M Carlson - he's gone, and I think he's somewhere around here. Ask your friends, see if they now - Randy, _please._"

He sat down on the floor against a window, and began rubbing peace signs on the glass from the condensation that had collected there. "If he's around here, then you don't want to find him. Kid's probably better off not being found - you can't find all them lost kids. There's too many of us now - too many."

"Randy ... _please_," I pleaded. "People keep telling me that - there's no point in helping him. But there is a point; there's a huge point."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"I - " I couldn't think of one. Was it really worth it?

"Hey, Ponyboy. Do you remember that time we were in the car and you told me 'bout saving those kids in the fire?" I nodded, not reminding him that he had already talked about the day in his car. "Remember how you said it's the individual - not about being a greaser or a Soc?"

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't have saved them. I would've let them burn." He sighed, and crumpled on the floor.

"It's getting dark - you should leave."

~/~

I was running.

Soda always said that I was a good runner because I kept emotions so well hidden - that only when I started running, did I let all of that extra energy explode. I remember thinking what a load of baloney that was, but he kept insisting that's what it was. Then during one track meeting last spring, I thought again of what Sodapop had told me. As soon as that gun went off, I wasn't thinking too straight about the race - I was thinking of all the different things that had happened to me. Johnny and Dallas. Mom and Dad. Darry and me.

Before I knew it, I had crossed the finish line, getting second place. Now, that might not sound like a good placing for someone who's supposed to be an sort of prodigy in running, but the truth was that I hadn't even been placing just months before - and this was against one of the harder teams in Tulsa. Coach was shocked - how had I done it? I only shrugged and gave Sodapop a grin. He grinned back, but I don't think he'd ever know how much he had helped me.

That's what I was thinking of as I ran all the way back to the east side - I was angry at Randy, angry at Darry and Two-Bit even Mark - I was just pretty mad overall. Now I wasn't even doing it for the kid - I just had to prove them wrong. I thought of Sodapop, and almost wished he was here so he could knock some sense into me. But I didn't stop.

I knew which house it was from the last time I had been over. It was more than a year ago, and I had only gone because Dally wanted to swing by, and Johnny was going with him. I knocked on the door, panting by that point. I was on my knees by then, and I only heard a gasp come from the doorway. Just my luck ...

"Ponyboy?" Angela Shepard. I looked up, still leaning on my knees, and she glared at me. "What do you want?"

"I need ... to see your ... brother." I leaned against the door frame, accidentally brushing her hand with mine. She recoiled, and pouted.

"Why should I?"

"Angela!" I snapped. "I don't want to waste the energy bein' mad at you - what's done is done, and I'm staying out of it, okay? But I need your brother. I need to see Curly."

She fingered her short black hair, and pursed her lips. "I'm not even sure if he's home or not ... "

I stopped, and tried a different approach. "Well, could you check?" I asked her politely, now standing up. I smiled. "Did you get a haircut or somethin'? It looks nice."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, please. Like I haven't seen that trick before," she laughed as she was turning around to go back inside. She held the door open and screeched out, "Curly! Get your ass out here!" She looked back at me, looking unfazed. "He'll be out in a minute. Maybe."

"Thanks, Angela." I nodded, smiling again. She rolled her eyes at me. Well, so much for her soft spot on me. Curly came out to the living room, shooting daggers at Angela with his eyes.

"What?"

She jerked her head in my direction. "Play nice, boys." She shoved Curly out the door, and closed it.

"What do you want, man?" He cocked his eyebrow.

"Okay fine," I said quickly. "I trust you, Curly. Help me find him. Help me find that Carlson kid."


	26. Finding M&M Part 1

(author's note):

Guys, I am so sorry for the late posting. There were a lot of technical difficulties with Dee et moi, but don't worry! I have THREE more chapters coming shortly soon. They're all beta'ed an everything, sitting nice and quiet in my Doc Manager. I just like to harvest reviews. :K So, uh ... REVIEW.

**(disclaimer):**

Don't own; Hinton & Three Days Grace do. THANK YOU TO DEE! :D :D :D

* * *

I could be mean. I could be angry. You know I could be just like you ...

* * *

"Look Curly - for the _last _time I know that it ain't no guarantee - but you gotta help me, man."

"Hey, could you hand me that shirt there, Curtis?"

"Which one, right here?" I found myself asking before I could stop myself. I scanned the messy floor of Curly's bedroom and picked up a shirt he might've been pointing to. When I had asked for help finding M&M, his first reaction was to just laugh in my face and go back into his house. But I wasn't ready to give up just yet. "Wait ... I mean, Curly," I groaned in frustration, yanking back the shirt from his grasp. "Are you going to help me, or not?"

He narrowed his dark blue eyes, and pursed his lips. He was the spitting image of his older brother, but his pursed lips reminded me of Angela for a minute. "Why should I?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "We're friends. Remember?" I held out my finger with the scar on it, like he had the night before. His gaze flicked to my finger, looking baffled.

"What the fuck's that?"

"The scar. From chicken, remember?" I cocked my eyebrow unsuccessfully. He cocked his head.

"Oh, yeah. Good memory there, Curtis." I bit my lip, deciding not to tell him he had been the one to remind _me_ about it just a few nights ago. I also didn't need to tell him how I'd probably never forget Tim Shepard chewing me out afterwards.

"So uh ... you gonna help?"

"I ain't gonna go snooping up and down the east-side looking for the little fuck, if that's what you're getting at." He went over to his overflowing sock drawer, and started to sniff at potential socks he could put on.

"Why not?"

He whipped his head to face me again. His dark curls hung over his forehead, and his eyes looked wildly amused. "What?" he laughed, and it came out sounding like a bark. "'Cause I ain't no candyass like you are, Curtis. What'dyou want him for, anyway?" He jabbed my shoulder roughly. "You some sort of fag?"

I felt my stomach clench painfully. It was one thing calling me a candyass - but he went a little too far that time. "You know what then?" He nodded, looking expectant. "Fine, then. Wasn't gonna be any skin offa your nose - I was just gonna tag along to some of those complexes and do my own searching. Should'a known you wouldn't have."

He smirked. "You guessed right there, kid."

I sighed, almost completely giving up. I was walking out of his doorway when another idea struck me. I bit down a grin, and started slowly,

"But I guess I always sorta knew you didn't have what it took to be a _real _member of a gang - they'd help their buddies out, if they could."

He quirked his eyebrow, his smirk slowly melting off his face. "_What_? That ain't gotta do with shit - like you even know; what's your gang reduced to? Three people?"

"Sure, but at least I know it wasn't just Sodapop's reputation keeping me in the gang - I'm still real friendly with some of 'em." I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant even though I could almost hear the truth snap in half at how far I was bending it.

"What the fuck does that mean?" he growled, getting right in my face. I wasn't losing my cool yet, and tried to stare him down.

"I mean, you're tough and all Curly - but I hear lots of things 'bout why you're even in your_ older brother's_ gang. I mean, _I_ always thought you were a tough kid. You always reminded me of Tim." He bit his lip.

"But them other guys don't think so - they think it's all Tim's reputation gettin' you in."

He smacked me across the face with his fist. I was seeing stars for a while, but regained my focus. "Curly - wait." I held my hand up, as he went in for another blow. "I don't think like that - but why don't you prove it?"

"Don't ... gotta ... prove ... _shit,_" he snarled, trying to free his arm.

"Then take me there, Curly. 'Cause you don't seem to give a shit 'bout nothing but yourself, and that ain't how a gang's run. That's not how leaders are supposed to run 'em." At the word 'leader', I felt him immediately stop resisting me. He kept a cool look on his face, but his eyes looked panicked.

"I don't gotta do anything?"

"Not a thing," I assured him. "Just take me there, and I'll do what I can. If I don't find him - "

He went over to his bed to get his jacket. "You got two hours. Tops."

"Thanks, Curly."

"Don't thank me yet, Curtis." He shook his head. "Jesus, if anything even goes wrong, I ain't taking the fall for this, alright? I've seen your older brother - he's like a fucking bull."

"Sure, Curly - you're the boss." I followed him out to the front door, into the cold winter night - waiting for whatever happened next.

~/~

I knew it was a bad idea even before I went to get Curly. But as he made his way to the sidewalk, checking his pockets for something**, **he turned to me. "We gotta walk," he told me without looking up. "It's easier to get away if the fuzz shows up."

"Running's faster than driving?" My heart was pounding by then - I hadn't ever been arrested. In my neighborhood, it wasn't uncommon when kids my age got arrested. It was almost like a rite of passage - like your first cigarette, drink, girl. But I wasn't itching to get arrested anyway. I could only imagine how Darry'd react.

He shook his head as we walked down the sidewalk. " 'Course it ain't - but cars are way too easy to track down and I ain't even supposed to be driving. So if I didn't get busted for the goods, I'd get busted for the car, either way."

I took in a deep breath, feeling my nerves almost snap. "Cool."

He laughed. "Oh man ... are you scared shitless or what? It's almost worth bringing you here, Curtis - I almost forgive you for you talking shit to me earlier now."

I almost froze at that. If he meant 'almost' did that mean he was gonna plan something else? I thought back to Bryon. He was out of the hospital now, but I wasn't too sure how well he was doing. I looked back at Curly. He seemed to have forgotten what he'd said.

"Alright. Few more minutes then," he thought out loud, and he dug through his pockets again.

By the time we had reached the hippy camp back at Morrison again, Curly stopped and made a move like he was going there. "Where're we going?"

"Need to pick something up," he said casually, and flicked his gaze back to me. "Wanna come?"

I glared at him, and shoved my hands in my pockets. "Sure. What time do you reckon it is?"

He smirked. "Need to get home for bedtime, Baby Curtis?" he laughed. "I dunno. Seven? Maybe eight?"

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but figured Darry would be okay. "Alright, man. You go get your ... things, and I'm gonna go find a pay phone, alright?"

He rolled his eyes, looking amused. "Whatever you say, Curtis." He strolled off in the direction of the camp, and I went over to the nearest pay phone on the sidewalk. I dug through my pockets for a dime, and dialed for home. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" Darry's voice came out sounding worried.

"Ponyboy, Darry. Look - "

"Ponyboy," he growled over the phone. "Where the hell are you, kid?"

"Look, I got real held up at school today," I lied quickly. "Coach held a mandatory meeting right after school today, and then I needed to meet my Chemistry partner for a project we're doin' for the midterm."

"I swear to God," I heard him seethe over the phone. "If you're not home in under an hour, Ponyboy, you are in so much trouble."

An hour. Barely enough time, but I figured it'd be enough. "Okay, fine. Bye, Darry." _Click._

I jogged across the street to the massive space where vans were parked - and tried to locate Curly. "Curly? Where are you, man?"

"Hey, it's Ponyboy!

I felt my nerves snap, and I turned around. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was the hippy from before when I had come to see Randy.

"Oh. Hello there," I said unenthusiastically as he came over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He reeked something awful, and I struggled to get away. "Excuse me for a minute ... "

"Ponyboy?"

I looked back again, and this time saw Randy. He was holding a canteen of water loosely in one hand, but he looked confused. "What're you doing here, kid?"

"Looking for my friend - This time I came with him though," I said quickly. "You seen a kid around here - dark, curly hair? Ehm ... he's picking stuff up from somwhere." Randy blinked. "Name's Curly? Shepard?"

"Ohh," he exclaimed, realization dawning on his face. "Shepard's here, yeah."

"Yes. I _know _he's here. But I can't _find _him," I pointed out. Randy nodded.

"C'mon. I know where he'll be."

"So, why're you here again?"

"We're heading up to those communes, you know?" He raised his eyebrow, but nodded.

"See if we can find anything about this kid," I continued and Randy whistled.

"Awful nice of Shepard - didn't think he had the heart to help a buddy out like that," he scoffed, but walked with me.

"Yeah," I mumbled, not mentioning how I had kind of tricked him into it.

We walked through the camp, and Randy said nothing about before. Finally we found Curly ... arguing with someone.

"You ripped me off, man," the guy fighting Curly snarled. His hair was matted with dirt, and hung past his shoulders. He pushed Curly, and almost toppled over himself - his eyes seemed unfocused.

"Why don't you stop complaining and givin' shit excuses and pay up?" Curly snapped, never losing his cool. You had to admire him for that.

"Make me," the guy bit back, and Curly - quick as lightning - grabbed a fistful of the guy's hair and hit him across the face bringing him down to his level. He flicked open his blade, and pressed it against the guy's jugular.

"You don't want me to _make you _do shit, you fucker. You hear me?" he barked at the guy. He let him go, and the guy stumbled forward again.

"C'mon, Curtis - " He jingled his pocket to show he did in fact have some payment after all. He turned back to the guy. "I'll give you two days to get my money - if you don't, I'll take it from you, got it?" Curly flicked back his blade, and turned to me and Randy.

"Let's go - I gotta make my rounds still." We were about to go when I heard something come from behind. _Click._

"Fuck," Curly hissed without looking back. "Run. _Now_."

I ran after him. I didn't dare look back, but I could've sworn I heard a gunshot in the distance.

* * *

**Happy February 13th, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.**


	27. Finding M&M Part 2

**(author's note):**

Heyy, didn't forget this, nup I didn't. :) Enjoy everyone!

**(disclaimer / acknowledgements):**

I don't own The Outsiders. Nor do I own the lyrics - Hinton and Nickelback respectively. Look at the song lyrics, people. SOMETIMES I give you _hints _in them. You think I post them to just to show you all what amazing taste in music I have? I listen to the BACKSTREET BOYS, for crying out loud. Geez ...

Ohyeahz. THANKS TO THE LUVERLY DIVINE ENERGY. And thanks for all my new reviewers! I love new reviewers! :) And my old ones of course ... I love you guys the most. Haha. xD

* * *

Just one more moment. That's all that's needed.  
Like wounded soldiers in need of healing.  
Time to be honest, this time I'm bleeding.  
Please don't dwell on it. 'Cause I didn't mean it.

* * *

"What ... the _hell _was that, man?" I panted when we had gotten a safe distance away from the camp.

Curly, who was coughing up a storm, just shrugged.

"I though hippies were supposed to be all peaceful and happy," I pondered, looking at him for an answer. Curly stood up straight.

"Well, they ain't all hippies, you know." He flicked some of his hair back, but it fell right back over his forehead. "Some of 'em are just junkies, some of 'em are homeless. Guess they know that where there's a camp, there's bound to be somethin' there. I reckon that guy wasn't there to make peace with the world."

I shook my head. "Did you rip him off?"

He glared at me. "For fuck's sakes, man - do you know how many times I get that from people? _Everyone _wants more than what they paid - can't ever trust those bastards, Curtis." He scoffed, still shaking his head. "Don't reckon anyone's ever had the balls to pull a heater out though - that was new."

I stared at him in open shock. "And that's okay? That he just pointed a fucking _gun _at you, and it's no big deal?" I started off in some random direction, not wanting to stay with Curly anymore. He was insane. This whole business was insane.

"Hey, where you going, kid?"

"Gonna go find that kid, Curly," I called back. "There ain't no way a kid like that'd survive out here." I froze as soon as my words formed the double meaning. I turned back to an unperturbed Curly. "You don't think ... "

He shrugged, not looking surprised. "Who knows? Why do you even care so goddamn much, Curtis?"

I sat down on the curb, sighing. "Hell if I know. I keep telling myself it's not because of his sister, 'cause it ain't." Curly sat down next to me, and snickered. "I'm serious, Curly." I turned to him. "It ain't. But maybe it is, kind of. Is that a bad thing, if it is?"

He shrugged. "Not worth getting killed over, that's for sure. If this kid's as messed up as I think he is, he's either dead or pretty messed up by now." I winced at the harshness of Curly's words - but then again, it wasn't his job to make me feel better about this; he was just here as an escort.

"This is bull," he muttered, getting up from the curb, not looking back at me. "If you ain't gonna get up and follow me now, then you can forget about going at all. S'not like I'm doing this at your convience, alright?" I nodded, and jumped up off the curb.

"Okay, let's get - " But Curly had stopped me, turning around quickly with a savage look on his face. "What - ?"

I felt cool metal pressed against my throat, and a large hand grip my bicep tightly. "Well, well, well - what do we have here?"

I couldn't turn around to see who had a hold of me, and I didn't recognize the voice. Curly was a good ten feet away from me, but made no move to run away. If this guy had any friends, they were probably all behind him then. Curly just stood there in a tense position, like an animal waiting to pounce.

"Let go of him," Curly started slowly. "What the hell do you want, anyway?"

I heard a voice come from behind me, "You're Shepard's kid brother, ain't you?" Curly stood up straighter, looking cool as hell.

"Might be. What if I am?"

I felt the guy tighten his grip on me. "Your brother ain't been too friendly with us, lately. We needed help with a little project, and the slick bastard burned us out of the deal at the last minute." I was pretty much convinced that I was going to die soon - I only had Curly there to help me, and these seemed like real hoodlums. We weren't on the east side anymore where the only real gang was Shepard's - we were in a whole new territory. I gulped, and felt the blade nick me on the throat.

"Ain't my fault," Curly snapped. "And he sure as hell ain't in it - he's not even in my gang." I wasn't really sure why Curly was trying so hard to save me instead of just bolting, but I was oddly touched by it.

Some of them chuckled, and I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath. "Well, you're outta your territory anyway. So why don't we just see what you've got there in your pockets kid." Curly quirked an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I got anything in my pocket?" The guy barked out a laugh.

"Please. Ain't no way in hell that Baby Shepard would ever leave a territory where no one'd dare touch him - you think that big brother of yours is any slouch of a fighter? Nah, 'course you know that you're safe as long as big brother's there to help you." Curly looked so mad that steam could've come out of his ears. "Unless you're doin' business of some sort, there ain't no reason for the little prince to be all by his lonesome with ... " He pulled my hair back, to get a good look at me. He frowned. "Well, this kid here."

I closed my eyes again, thinking of how this was a pretty lousy way to die. I thought about Johnny dying as a hero, and hoped to God that he wasn't watching me now - dying like a hoodlum. And then I thought of Dallas. But instead of thinking what he'd think, I was remembering something else ...

"_Dallas Winston, what in heaven's name are you doing?" My mother was watching Dally and Sodapop from the back porch. My brother was in a headlock as Dallas held something against his throat - I had been watching quietly with Johnny, who seemed fixated by Dallas. _

_Dally jumped off of Sodapop, and bit his lip. "Uh ... " My mother placed her hands on her hips, and smiled. "Nothing?"_

_"Dally's teaching us some things he learned in New York, Mom," Soda answered calmly, taking the stick from Dally. "Apparently we don't do any of this stuff right."_

_My mother blinked, looking shocked. "Fighting, you mean?" She glanced reproachfully at Dally, who was looking at the ground._

_"Naw, Mrs. Curtis - just defense. I wouldn't teach them nothing dangerous." That was a boldfaced lie, but my mother seemed to appreciate the effort. _

_"Well, don't hurt each other too badly, please Dallas?" He nodded, and watched her go back inside. The suspicious scowl that hardly ever left his face was still there, but there was some sort of emotion that I couldn't place at the time. It looked like longing. _

_"Okay, kid - take this, and go behind me like you're gonna knife me." He handed Sodapop the stick. He turned to Johnny. "What would you do, Johnnykid?" _

_Johnny bit his lip, shrugging. I answered, "Grab his arm, maybe?"_

_Dally rolled his eyes. "Your kid brother would be dead, Sodapop - just letting you know that." Soda flashed me a grin, but I felt my face heat up. "Johnnycake?" _

_He shrugged. Dally nodded, and explained, "Okay, see here - if you grabbed this guy's arm, he'd knife you in a second, no doubt. What you gotta do is trap his arm, like this." Dally crushed Soda's arm between his head and shoulderblade, and quick as lightning grabbed my brother's arm with the 'knife' and spun him around onto the ground. "And, well - you'd kick him in the balls usually - but knees are good too. They'll always fall down if you do that." _

_Johnny looked mighty impressed, but I was a little wary. Dally had scared me, even back then. When Soda got up, Dally whacked him in the back of the head._

_"Hey, what was that for?" Soda yelped. _

_"Smiling at Ponyboy," he muttered darkly. "This shit's serious - I mean it, man. He would've been dead." _

"So ... how about it, kid?"

I wasted no time in doing exactly what Dallas had taught us that day. I pressed my chin into the guy's arm, and twisted him backwards. I took the knife from him gingerly, and kicked him in the groin. He fell pretty quickly after that, but I kicked him in the knees too, figuring if I did that he wouldn't be able to get back up again. Curly took that moment to spring into action, and I quickly turned back to see him take on a guy who had been out of my eyesight. I noticed, with a jolt, that he had a gun in his hand.

Curly disarmed him quicker than I had thought, and I realized that even if Curly was pretty slow with people, he sure as hell made it up for his fighting. He leapt on the guy and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, slamming his face into the dirt. quickly counted all of the guys. Seven of them. We were outnumbered, and the guy who I had felled was struggling to get up again. I swiftly kicked him in the stomach, but no sooner than I had done that did two other guys advance towards me.

One of them had a knife in his hand, and the other had a chain. I remembered Dallas telling me that the most important thing to do was grab the hand with the weapon in it. I wasn't real sure on how to go about that, but grabbed the inside of his wrist, and twisted it backwards. I felt a sharp pain erupt on my back as I saw his buddy wind up to hit me again with his chain.

"Curly!" I hollered at him, while I tried to use the other guy as a shield.

"Yeah, what?" he yelled back, and turned around to see the two guys pull me into the dirt. "Oh, shit. Okay, I'm comin', Pony."

Unfortunately one of them had heard it, and yelled to his buddy, "Don't just stand there, go get Baby Shepard. We'll take care of this one."

As tough as Curly was, he had no chance. Three of the able-bodied boys tackled him, and I was defenseless as they pushed me into the ground. I struggled to get back up, and felt them pull me back down. This has happened to me before, I thought dazedly. If I replaced the leather jackets with madras shirts, and the smokey smell with English Leather, this could've been a year ago.

I wasn't thinking straight. How had I gotten out of it before? Hadn't I gotten out of it okay? I remembered a tough hoodlum with a bitter grin and white blond hair. A quiet, good-hearted kid with dismal eyes and jet black hair. They had saved me before - where were they now?

The guy slugged me a few times, and pulled out his blade. I struggled. "I'mma mess your face up so bad, pretty boy that you're mama ain't even gonna recognize you."

Had Johnny been threatened like this? _'Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to see her again real soon. Johnny too.' _The thought almost brought tears to me eyes, but I spit out a few curses instead. It was two against seven, how were we going to get out of this alive? I didn't dare try to take the guy's arm again, and instead kneed him in the groin. The guy holding me down then tightened his grip on my shoulders, and I got up far enough to slam my fist into his nose.

There sure was a lot of blood, I remembered. The guy I had kneed was still on the floor, moaning. That seemed to be a pretty good trick - they sure fell quickly when I did that. Maybe they should start wearing cups when they're going out fighting. I busted out laughing as soon as I thought of it, and Curly screamed out,

"_You think this is funny?" _I looked over to see him get held down by the other three guys, and saw them trying to leaf through his pockets. "Don't just stand there - help me!"

I was ready to go back again, but felt other guys drag me down again, and this time they started pounding me until I almost saw stars. I remember thinking, '_This is it, I'm going to die' _before I heard footsteps and sirens in the distance.

"Who called the fuzz, man?" I heard, but I was already slipping - the edges of my vision were blurring. I felt sharp pain, and I figured that was good - you weren't supposed to feel pain when you died, right? I felt a pair of strong arms lift me up halfway, dragging my feet.

There was a ringing in my ears, and I heard parts of Curly's voice, "Fuzz ... s'my fault ... Curtis ... his brother?" My brother. Darry?

I could only hear my breathing - it hurt to open my eyes. I could hear the police sirens getting closer, and suddenly I needed to see a familiar face. Curly, Darry, Sodapop ... I moaned.

"It's okay, kid - alright. You hearing me? Hold on, kid. Ponyboy ... _please_ keep your eyes open. I ain't a doctor, kiddo ... ah, shit." The voice was hoarse but gentle.

I looked up, and saw a mass of dirty blonde hair. Dark brown eyes. A tired face.

I could only splutter out one word before I finally blacked out.

"... Sodapop?"

* * *

OMG, WHAT THE HELL - SODAPOP'S IN VIETNAM, HOW - WHA - HUH?

Yeah, I know. You're confused. I'd update on Friday, but I dunno ... I kind of like milking out reviews. Perhaps if I get a lot of feedback by Friday? :)

**Happy February 16th, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well. **


	28. The Unbroken Bond

**(author's note):**

I'm going to cry when this is over. I just wrote the ending, and I think a part of me died with it. Sigh. So depressing. THEY GROW UP SO FAST. Except in my case, it took a little over a year to finish 30 chapters.

**(disclaimer): **

As always, I don't own the lyrics or the book. U2 and Hinton are da bosses, yo.

Enjoy, everyone. Don't get too worried - there's a long epilogue that'll tie everything together ... somehow. So if you don't see what happens to someone in this chapter or next, I'll cover them later.

* * *

x- I have scaled these city walls / Only to be with you.  
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for. -x

* * *

I woke up feeling groggy. It was light outside, and I noticed I wasn't on the floor anymore. Looking around again, I was back in my own house. In my bed. Someone had changed my clothes, and I felt my head. Someone had bandaged my head and side. I heard a mumble come from beside me, and saw someone next to me on the bed. I felt my heart stop as the night before came back to me.

Someone had dragged me away from the scene when the fuzz showed up. It was Sodapop. I was almost sure of it. But how had he come home? Why didn't he tell us - and how did he know where I was? I wasn't ready to turn around and face him just yet, but all of a sudden I felt the bedsprings creak.

"Ponyboy, are you awake?"

I looked up, and felt my heart drop. "...D-Darry?"

My oldest brother frowned at me, looking like he either wanted to punch me, or start bawling. "Ponyboy ... " He shook his head, looking so overcome with an emotion. Anger? Sadness?

"Where's Sodapop?" I croaked. What was Darry doing sleeping next to me, and where was Soda?

His eyebrows rocketed upwards, and he looked sincerely panicked. "Ponyboy, you don't know where Sodapop is?"

My imagination ran away with me again. I imagined that these past three months had all been a bad dream. That Soda was right at home, where he was supposed to be. "No."

Darry continued to look worried. "Oh, Ponyboy ... He's in Vietnam, remember? He's been there for almost three months now - please tell me you remember that?"

I felt my heart deflate like a balloon that had all the air fly out of it. "I know," I mumbled, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. "I know," I whimpered again, and tried to sit up. An intense pain gripped my side. "Shit!"

"Are you okay?" Darry asked, steadying me. "Do you forget anything else?"

"I know Soda's here, Darry!" I cried out, feeling angry that I was still crying. I hadn't even cried when he had left for boot camp - it didn't feel real then. It felt real now, knowing that I had been so close to seeing him again, and he wasn't there. "He saved me last night - he pulled me away."

"Kiddo," Darry whispered, rubbing my shoulder. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

"No," I whispered. "Yes. Some. Curly was taking me to go find that kid. We ran into some guys who are enemies with his brother, and we got into a fight. They - they got us both, and then I passed out. And someone was dragging me away as the fuzz showed up. It was Sodapop, Darry! I could've sworn it was!"

He shook his head, but bit his lip. Then realization dawned on his face. "_Oh_. He does ... the blonde hair, the eyes - oh." He looked at me again, this time with pity. "Kiddo, that was your Soc friend - Randy. Adderson, I think? You must've thought it was Sodapop, but baby ... " He bit his lip, looking close to tears now. "It wasn't. Soda's still in Vietnam. He's still there."

"No!" I protested. I didn't want to believe it. "It wasn't, Darry. Oh, please - tell me it was Soda! Tell me that he came home!" I sobbed, unable to help myself now. "I need him, Darry. I'm so scared ... " He hugged me tightly, and I heard him sniff.

"I know, Pony ... I miss him so much, too." He stroked my hair as I sobbed into his shoulder.

"Darry, I keep thinking of him out there," I choked. "I can't bear it - what if something happens? What if he doesn't come home? It's hell, waiting for a letter telling us that he's coming home in a box, or not at all. I almost just want it to be over with, if it's gonna happen."

Darry was crying now too, and he was rocking me. "I know you missed him ... " he sighed, "I just didn't know how to get you to talk to me about it. I miss him so much, too. I pray every night that he'll come home to us. I don't know how we'll get by without him."

I looked at him, pulling away. "Darry, I'm sorry. For everything. I've been so stupid, but it ain't just that." I wiped my eyes. "I've been convincin' myself that if I make it so that you and me can't possibly get on without Soda, then maybe we'll get him back. But that ain't fair. To you, I mean." I sniffed, choking again. "If - if he don't come back, we need to get by without him." Darry gripped my shoulder, and squeezed. "He wouldn't want us to be fighting without him - until he gets back, we're all we got."

Darry nodded, his face wet from crying. "Oh, Pony ... " He hugged me again. "You're right," he mumbled. "I've been doin' it too. I used to get so damn jealous of you and Sodapop, so when he did leave, I dunno ... I just felt like you were angry at _me _for not being more like him. And I should've made more of an effort to get you talking to me." He looked ashamed, but not as ashamed as I felt.

"Darry ... I'm sorry," I whispered. "Soda used to tell me how much you gave up for me, and I never really got it. I've been a jerk. I'm sorry." I mumbled as I hugged him again.

"Okay," he whispered. "And he's going to come home, alright? Don't think like that."

"Yeah, okay," I mumbled. Even though Sodapop hadn't come home like I had hoped, I still felt like I gained back a brother that morning - because this time, it didn't take a middlman to convince Darry and me to get along. We had found common ground by ourselves - without help from Sodapop.

~/~

I was grounded until further notice according to Darry, which I think extended to spring break even. It didn't matter. I deserved it, and I was just happy to have Darry back.

He also told me that if I ever pulled a stupid stunt like that again over a girl, he wasn't just going to ground me. He'd homeschool me, and make sure I never met another girl as long as I lived.

"I'm not sure what's worse," Darry said sourly, "you willing to go clear up and down Tulsa looking for her little brother, or Sodapop wanting to hitchhike to Florida looking for Sandy." Personally, I thought the latter sounded more dramatic, but I kept my mouth shut. Plus, it kind of hurt to talk - my jaw hadn't been spared in the fight.

In fact, by the time I had limped to a mirror, I finally saw the final result of my fighting. I looked awful. There was a huge bruise across my jawline, and I was going to have at least one black eye - it was already forming. I was lucky I didn't lose any teeth, though I swore to Darry that one of them felt loose.

Darry thought I had a few bruised ribs, but if they got worse, I'd have to go to the hospital. I could tell he was worried about taking me though. The state might get involved if they heard I was in the hospital again.

Randy came to visit me only a few hours after I had woken up. I almost didn't recognize him again. He had shaved and cut his hair, and though he still looked tired, was too skinny, and his eyes had a nervous glint in them, he almost looked normal. "Hey, kid," he said quietly.

"Randy." I motioned him over to my bed where I was doing my math homework. "Thanks for saving my life last night. See, I knew you'd help someone if they needed it." I winced, and gingerly touched my jaw again.

His lips tugged into a short smile. "Maybe you're right." He nodded, and walked over to the drawer where he picked up a magazine. "Your brother's?" he asked, motioning to the cover with a car on it. I nodded.

"Do you know what happened to Curly?" I asked him.

"Got arrested. Fighting. I don't think they found the drugs on him. Those other guys might've taken them by that time. He said I should get you outta there at least; said you had nothing to do with it, and should call your brother to tell him not to worry. So I just drove you home."

I was silent.

"I'm going to apologize to my parents," he said quietly, flicking his dark eyes to me. He didn't look a blessed thing like Sodapop, but I could see where I thought he might. His hair was dark blonde like Soda's, his eyes were dark - and I could tell he would be handsome if he just wasn't so old-looking. "You've given me a lot to think about."

I quirked my eyebrow. "How?"

He sighed. "You were going to risk it all to save that little punk, weren't you?" I shrugged. "I know there's some girl involved, but that ain't just it. Why would you do it? Why save him... like you saved those kids a year ago?"

I shrugged. "I have crazy impulses."

He looked annoyed. "I'm not saying you're crazy - I just can't believe you're such a goddamn good person. Where do you think you'll get being like that?"

I paused. "It's not ... so much about _where _I'm gonna go. It's _how _I'm gonna get there," I answered slowly, wondering if that sounded right. I thought of Johnny, telling me to stay gold. It would be so much easier to get out of Tulsa by pushing my way to the top. To forget all of my friends, and think of only myself - like Darry and Two-Bit said. But somehow that victory would almost be bittersweet, when I'd think of how much I lost on the way.

He looked away. "Like me." He rubbed his fingers together, like there was something in them. "I pushed and didn't think of no one - now no one wants to help me."

"That's not true, Randy - " I shook my head. "I care. Cherry does. Your parents will." My jaw was really hurting - I thought about asking Steve how he dealt with it. How long it took to heal. I made a mental note of asking him that.

"Cherry?" he whispered. "Really? Not ... Marcia, I guess?"

I shrugged. "I just talk to Cherry." He looked down, unsure.

"I've known her practically my whole life," he admitted. "When Bob started going out with her, I ... " I understood something then. Randy was in love with Cherry? I looked back to him, and never felt so bad for a Soc before.

"You should tell her," I told him with a nod, and Randy shook his head.

"I should go," he sighed, making his way to leave. Before he left, he turned around and whispered, "She already knows."

He left. I slept for six hours.

~/~

"Oh, Ponyboy Curtis - what in heaven's name have you done to yourself, baby?" I cracked open an eye and saw Mrs. Mathews flutter up to me, and go to hug me.

"Careful, he's sore!" Darry called out, and she hugged my gently.

"Are you alright?" She pushed some hair out of my eyes, and twittered nervously. Darry was holding a tray of something steaming, and it sure smelt good.

She saw me staring at it, and beamed. "I made y'all some dinner - "

"-Actually, she made you about _seven _dinners, give or take a few days." I glanced up to see Two-Bit come from behind his mama and then proceeded to smack me on the head.

"Ow!" I yelped. Mrs. Mathews smacked Two-Bit.

"What're you doing, boy?"

"Hey, that's nothing compared to what I _said _I was gonna do if he got in trouble." He glared at me for a minute, and I gulped. My throat hurt, and I realized the guy had cut me some there. He cracked a smile, and shrugged. "But I guess I'll let it go. This time." He ruffled my hair.

I noticed Annie standing there as well, next to her mother. She smiled at me, and waved. "Hey, Anne." She smiled, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Go give him a hug, girl!" Two-Bit pushed her forward, grinning now. Her eyes widened.

"Uh ... " She bit her lip, and leaned down gingerly to give me a hug. I saw her wrinkle her nose.

"What?" I asked her.

"You smell weird," she said bluntly.

Mrs. Mathews and Two-Bit roared with laughter, and Annie blushed. "Sorry." I shook my head, knowing she was probably right.

"It's alright - I should take a shower soon."

"Well, we're going to go to the kitchen, alright?" Mrs. Mathews chirped, taking a tray. Two-Bit ordered her to put it down, and took it from her.

"I got it, Mama." She nodded gratefully, and looped her arm around his to support her.

"Hey, Annie - " I whispered before she left. She turned around.

"Did you get the results back?"

She shook her head. "No, but it doesn't look very good."

I sighed. "I feel so dumb."

She sat on the edge of my bed. "Why?"

"She must think I did this all for her. It'll be all over school somehow - that I tried to save her little brother just for her."

"That Cathy girl, you mean?" Annie asked, playing with my frayed bedspread. I nodded.

"It wasn't just for her."

"I know."

I sighed. "Don't matter none - your brother and mine are right. No girl is worth that much trouble." Annie's eyebrows rocketed up.

"Excuse me?" Uh-oh. "You're an idiot if you're just going to throw it away now." Huh?

"What?" I asked, confused.

She looked at me as if I was an idiot. "You're telling me that you almost get killed just for some girl's little brother, and you're just going to toss all that work away ... because ... ?"

I gestured to her bewilderingly. "She can't possibly think I'm sane - I mean, I almost _died _to help some girl that I have a stupid crush on. She must think I'm pathetic."

"Hmm." She simmered. "Some other guy, maybe. But you're not. If Ms. Cathy is smart at all, she'll platform off of this. She knows if she gets you now, you'll both be the couple of the decade or something."

"She's not like that," I defended her, wondering when she got so mouthy. I didn't like it - it wasn't good on a nice girl like Annie.

"I noticed," she said lightly. "She didn't seem like a very nice person when I met her, that is. She froze you out as soon as you decided not to devote all of your attention to her - like when that other girl started chatting with you, or when I came? She barely gave you a second glance - she either really likes you, or is completely full of herself."

"You don't even know her," I shot at Annie. "So don't pretend like you do."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. I'm just saying - a nice, popular, good-looking boy like you does all that for her? Of course she'll take you now. It's a golden oppurtunity, after all." She got up, and made her way to the door.

She turned around, but I was pretty much done listening to Annie Mathews by that point. "If you really like her," she said softly. "Don't let her go."

I slept for another six hours.

~/~

I was thinking about what Annie said even until the next morning, which was Saturday. I was feeling real good about that day for some reason. I even considered getting up and taking a walk somewhere.

That all changed when I got a visit from Terry at noon.

"What is it Terry?" I asked him when I saw the shell-shocked look on his face as he sat down on my couch.

"Mark's in jail, man. Someone found those drugs that he's been pushing, and turned him in." I felt my blood run cold. I had just seen Mark two days ago. Now he was in jail?

"Who?" I whispered.

Terry looked at me, and he said the one name I least expected,

"Bryon."

* * *

To anyone who's never read "That Was Then, This is Now" don't get mad at me for how *I* ended it; I'm following the book's layout, so anything that I'm doing with Bryon, Mark, M&M and even Cathy will be all influenced by Hinton's work.

Important question for you all. The epilogue - as it stands - is about 3,500 words long, and I'm planning for about a thousand more. You guys need to decide whether you'd want a more streamlined epilogue with more for the imagination (some of it is kind of sad), or a fully-detailed one that winds up endings in impossible-to-undo-mad-intense-Boy-Scout-handbook-knots. I can go either way, but I'd like some opinion.

Okay, that's it. Happy February 20th, my readers! Review, flame, critique - do what you must, and do it well.


	29. What Happens Next

(author's note):

Oh my gosh. Guys? This is the last chapter. I love you all; stick around for the epilogue - it just needs to be perfected so maybe ... next week? This Sunday if you're lucky. And I mean _super _lucky.

**(disclaimer):**

This'll be the last time, since I don't want anything before my epilogue chapter. I want you all to get the full effect without having to see dumb disclaimers.

I don't own the lyrics here or in the next chapter. Switchfoot owns these & George Douglas, George David Weiss, and Louis Armstrong (kind of) owns the lyrics for later.

(**acknowledgements):**

Once again, thank-you to Dee for beta'ing. And I'd love to thank anyone who's reviewed, favorited, or followed the story along the way. Even seeing how many hits I get per chapter, or where I get them around the world is something amazing. Thank-you all so much! :)

* * *

**I dare you to move like today never happened before. **

* * *

After Terry left, I walked around the house thinking to myself. Darry wouldn't be home for another few hours - I had insisted that he go to work, and leave me at home. But I didn't want to tell him anyway. I was feeling sick to my stomach, if you want to know the real truth. _Mark? _How could this have happened?

I laid down on the couch, my head throbbing. I felt like bawling again while I remembered Mark and all of his crazy antics he used to get us into. I had met him last year, a little while after Johnny and Dallas had passed. Most of the people at school wouldn't even talk about it to my face - and it wasn't like I had wanted them to. Not _really. _But I did sort of wish someone would ask my side of things.

I had gone down to the Ribbon one day during the weekend, and Steve and Soda had been talking about getting into a race - Steve had borrowed some car from a buddy of his, and souped it up. I don't think I'd ever forget Mark sauntering up to Steve saying he could take him - he had seemed much older than I took him for, despite him being so small. He had this dangerously reckless face that reminded me of Soda and Dallas at the same time - and his jungle cat eyes glittered determinedly while Steve sized him up. "You're on, Jennings."

Soda explained later on that Steve had his own personal vendetta against Mark. Apparently Mark was selling stolen car parts to people under the table, and fixing up cars for his buddies for much lower than what the DX charged - sometimes even for free. I had thought that to be pretty nice of him, but Soda said that it could've cost him and Steve their jobs if they lost too much service. I thought Steve just needed to stop taking everything so personally, but I didn't say that.

They raced. Steve won, obviously. I had never known him to lose a race before. Mark was pretty gracious about losing, even though he wasn't the type to lose - there was almost a comical look in his eye. "Good race Randle. Curtis." He took one glance at me before walking off.

Steve might've won the race that night, but sometime during the course of the night, someone came by and took off his hupcaps and snapped off the hood ornament.

I think we all knew it was Mark, but I was the only one who found it funny - especially when Steve opened his locker two days later, and all of the stolen things spilled out onto the floor.

I had laughed uproariously, and saw Mark Jennings walking down the hallway. He caught my glance when he saw I was laughing, and grinned. Even when Steve punched me in the shoulder, telling me I was a "smartass kid", Mark only shook his head and walked off to class with Bryon before Steve saw him.

We'd been friends ever since. I turned over, and thought about adding Bryon to this mix. How could Bryon be so cruel to his own brother? I knew that Mark and Bryon weren't real brothers, but they had lived together since Mark's mom and dad died. I couldn't even begin to think of turning my own brother into the cops, knowing he'd get years in prison. Mark wouldn't survive prison - he'd either die there, or worse. He'd come out of there changed beyond belief. I was so mad at Bryon right then - I wanted to go over to his house and beat the shit out of him. What the hell was his problem? This guy was beginning to look more and more like a jerk to me, and I felt like Mark would've been better off without him.

_'Heck, you would've too,' _I thought ruthlessly to myself, rubbing my aching side. I could've had Cathy already if it weren't for that back-stabbing jerk. I wanted to experss some more emotion over Mark being arrested, but couldn't bring myself to it. How can you feel sadness for someone already so broken? I knew that Mark wasn't going anywhere - but I never could've imagined this. It made me feel sick.

What made me feel worse was that I hadn't been there to help him. I fell asleep again.

~/~

Darry woke me up at around 8:30 PM. "I'm worried about you, kiddo. I hear that concussions can make people awful sleepy - maybe we should get you checked out?"

"Where'd you hear that?" I rubbed my eyes. "And there ain't anything wrong with me - I just need to get back to my regular sleeping schedule is all. I'm all mixed up. I hardly slept last night, you know." Darry nodded, but said nothing. He went to the kitchen and called back,

"I'm heating up your dinner for you, okay? What piece of chicken do you want?"

"Doesn't matter," I called out, rubbing my eyes again.

"Hey, Ponyboy ... "

"Yeah?"

"Have you ... heard from Two-Bit at all?" Oh, no. Not this again. I groaned.

"No, what happened?"

Darry came to the living room and sighed. "His mom got the test results back." I felt my stomach flip. "They weren't ... good."

"So now what?"

"I guess ... we'll just have to wait and see," Darry shrugged, and went back to the kitchen.

I sighed, and called back out, "Hey Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"My friend got arrested last night."

He came to the living room, looking curious. "Who, Curly?"

"No." I shook my head. "Mark Jennings?"

"Oh, no ... " He looked at me reassuringly. "Well, sorry kiddo - he'll be out soon?"

"I don't think so," I mumbled. "He got caught with drugs - acid, I think?" Darry's eyebrows rockted upwards. "His brother turned him in - can you imagine how awful that is?"

There was a long pause. Then Darry exhaled and spoke again.

"Hey, if you ever catch me doing drugs, can you tell me you're gonna tell the police first? I might need some time to get to Mexico."

I laughed out loud, and Darry cracked a grin. I never said it enough times, but boy was I lucky that Darry was my older brother.

"Hey Darry?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Thanks."

~/~

Cathy came over to see me a week after what had happened.

I hadn't gone to work since then, and though I hadn't been avoiding her on purpose, my desire to see her had dropped a lot since last week. I just kept thinking about what Annie had said - was Cathy like that? An oppurtunitist? I hadn't really noticed; I had just attributed her cool aloofness to the reason why I liked her so much. But maybe Annie was right - maybe I did like it when girls like Margaret, or Angela, or Mary paid attention to me. Like I was worth being paid attention to.

I didn't want to think about it. All I knew was that I had done so much more than win Cathy's friendship - maybe even more - I had learned a lot about myself along the way. I had heard from people at school that M&M had been found just a few days after I got hurt in the fight -he had been at a commune and went on a bad trip. I knew what that meant; he might not ever be the same is what I had heard. I didn't confront Bryon about Mark. I hadn't even seen him at all, which was for the better - I was still shocked he could do something like that to Mark.

I heard tapping on the door. Two-Bit was sitting in the chair next to me, fiddling with his knife. "Who the hell knocks?" he called out, and I shushed him.

"You moron, what if it's the state?" I snapped, and he pursed his lips like he was sucking on a lemon and widened his eyes. I laughed.

"Oh, right. Sorry!" he called back out, and went back to playing with his knife.

I opened the door, and felt my breath catch. Cathy? "Uh ... hey," I said, surprised. She blinked at me, looking unsure.

"Is this a bad time? I wanted to come see you." My head would've been swimming at the double meaning behind her words, but I couldn't find that emotion I had before.

"Oh, come in." I gestured. "Sorry, it's a little messy."

She turned to me, "Ponyboy, I live with five kids - my house isn't much better than yours."

Two-Bit's eyebrows raised, and he straightened up in his chair. "Well ... ?"

"Well, what?" I shot back, daring him to embarrass me.

"Weeell," Two-Bit drew out, cocking his head, blinking at Cathy, then back at me. "No, seriously - I don't know. What?"

I gestured to the door. _Take a hike. _He nodded his head, as if he understood.

He just sat there. Cathy coughed, but a smile was tugging at her lips.

"Two-Bit?"

"Yes, Pony?"

"Get out of my house."

"What's the magic word?"

_"Now_," I said heatedly, and snatched his knife from him.

"Hey, now! My baby sister gave me that - give it here!"

I threw it out the door. "Fetch."

"Oh, fine," he huffed. "I know when I'm not wanted." He gave a huge wink to Cathy, and she giggled. "See you, kiddies."

"Uh, sit down I guess?"

She nodded, and sat down on the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?" She shook her head.

"I heard you got in a fight last week."

"Yeah," I admitted sheepishly, touching my ribs. "Kind of."

She nodded, pursing her lips. "Why?"

I felt my face heat up. "Why do you think?"

She closed her eyes, sighing. "Was it ... because of me?"

"No." She opened her eyes, surprised. "Well, yes. But also no. Cathy ... I wanted to help your brother. Even if I didn't know him, I wanted to help."

She looked at me softly. "But why?"

"Because ... " I started. "Because he reminded me of myself when I was younger, and I dunno. I guess ... I guess I just didn't want anything bad to happen. See what it might've been like if I had, y'know ... stayed like that."

Her forehead creased, and she looked close to tears. "You are."

"What?" I asked, blinking.

"You are, Ponyboy ... " she mumbled. "I mean, it was Bryon and me who found M&M. Mark actually found him ... but I mean, Bryon would never have done something like you did if he didn't know M&M. If he didn't love me." I didn't feel mad at that though; I figured as much, that he loved her I mean. She looked down. "I'm glad it wasn't for me ... but are you sure that's it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. It sounds weird, I know - but I just wish that someone had been there to help me when I was his age. I don't know ... How is he?"

She placed her head in her hands, and let out a small sob. I went over to her, and put my arm on her shoulder. "That bad?"

She looked up. "He doesn't know where he is a lot of the time. Keeps screaming in his sleep. It's terrible, my poor baby brother ... " She sobbed. "He was so brilliant, and now he's gone. He looks terrible. I almost wish he wasn't ... " She let out a quivering sigh. "Bryon broke up with me. I think, at least. I don't understand why. I didn't believe he turned Mark in at first, and then he broke up with me. I don't understand anything anymore."

"I think that's the way it's supposed to be, Cathy," I mused. "I don't think we're supposed to understand it all. Maybe Bryon was right." She looked at me, shocked. "I don't think he was, but you can bet he's feeling some sort of regret. I don't believe he's all that bad."

She looked at me. "You're too deep for me, Ponyboy." She leaned into my shoulder though, and I gave her an awkward hug. She laughed, and hugged me back. "I was wishing you'd do this that day I told you about my brother." I stroked her hair, and let her cry for a while.

By the time she was done, she was back walking out the door. She opened the screen door, but turned around. "Ponyboy?"

"Yeah?" I leaned on the doorframe, keeping it open.

She bit her lip. "I've felt so weird around you since you started working with me. I think I still love Bryon, but ... well, can you tell me something?"

I nodded.

"Have you ever ... " She stopped. "This is going to sound so stupid," she mumbled, her charcoal eyes looking abashed. "I mean, me of all people asking the most popular boy in school this ... but well, have you ever felt anything for me?"

I blinked at her, shocked. How could she think I did all of this without feeling _anything _for her? "Cathy ... " I thought about what Annie said earlier. _'Don't let her go.' _

_"_Stupid question," she laughed. "I guess I'll just - " I cut her off by kissing her on the cheek.

"Yes, Cathy," I whispered as she looked at me with her steely eyes. "I did. I like you a lot in fact. But ... I've been an idiot these past few months, and I've been going at this all wrong - you know, you're the first girl I ever really tried to get." She blushed, still in shock.

"Really?" she whispered, looking both pleased, shocked, and ... regretful?

"Hmm," I mumbled. "I liked being with you - but I think we've both been through a lot, and there's still a lot we need to fix before either of us can think of anything. Can we just be friends? For now, at least?"

She smiled at me, and I realized that I wasn't in love with her like I thought I was. I felt comfortable, at ease - but maybe that's what love did feel like. She kissed me on the cheek.

"I'd like that very much, Ponyboy. Thank-you."

I watched her leave, and made a mental note to thank Annie Mathews. Taking one last good look at the sunset, I chuckled I limped back inside to get dinner ready before Darry got home.

~/~

_Dear Ponyboy, _

_What is this I hear? You have an actual _crush _on a girl, and you didn't tell me? Oh, Pone - you know better then to keep these things from me. I wish you had told me. I'm all hiper and giddy now. The guys are worried I dipped into some weed or something, but I'm just so freaking happy. My baby brother's going to have his first girlfriend. I know you'll get her, Pone. You just need to pull the ol' Curtis charm on her. So here's what you do. Real nice and simple, kiddo. You just gotta get her talking about something, and then mention something mysterious about yourself - won't be too hard, you've got so many different things to chose from. Wanna use me? Say your favorite older brother (I'm kidding, don't tell Darry I said that.) is in 'Nam, and you miss him something awful. _

_It's real warm here still. I'm sweating constantly, but I'm using all the different things you and Dare got me, and I appreciate it a whole bunch, kiddo. Last week we went out on patrol and screened a movie for some village - I let a kid try on my helmet. These people? They're so tiny in comparison to us. One of my buddies here is trying to convince me to get with one of the locals - I told him no way would I ever do it, but you do get lonely around here. Did you know the girls here have diseases you can get from just having sex with them? Glad it's not like that back home - I can't wait to be home. _

_Nothing much else has happened - I'm sending over a picture that we took a while back, but just got now. I know it's not much, but I want you guys to know how I'm doing. That girl I told you about before, Pony? Man ... would you mind if I flew out to New York after seeing you two, just so I could meet her? She sure is something else; he said she wanted to meet me too. I'm just afraid something bad'll happen, or I won't like her. Or she won't like me. I don't know. _

_I miss you so much sometimes, kid - it's crazy ... Will you and Darry promise to not hate me if I come back differnet? I feel myself changing over here, but knowing I'm coming home to y'all is a nice thought. I just hope you're both alright._

_Have you heard from Steve lately? I'm woried. I send him a letter a week now, and usually get something back - I figure it's just lost mail or something. _

_But anyway, Ponyboy ... I expect a long letter back. Five pages, no less. Tell me everything that's happened between the time I left for bootcamp, and the second after you put this letter down. _

_Starting ... now._

_Love,_

_Sodapop Curtis_

I glanced at the attached photo from the letter, and almost cried at seeing my brother's handsome face shine back at of the old thing. I knew that he had cut his hair, but there was a helmet was placed on his head, so I didn't notice. He was squinting at the camera but smiling, like it was too bright or something. He was next to a few guys with helmets too - they looked a little more grim, but still the same age as my brother.

He looked tired. I touched the photo gingerly, and wondered where I'd start.

I took out some paper and began,

_Dear Sodapop ..._

_You would not believe what happened to me these past few months. I guess if I had to start somewhere, I'd go back to mid-November - right after you left for bootcamp. I was making my way home from track practice after school one fall day ..._

_

* * *

_

The epilogue is still being perfected. I hope you all like it.

Review? O.o


	30. Epilogue

**~February 5th, 1968~**

It was raining the day he was buried.

Darry and I left the house together at nine o'clock in the morning as we made our way to say good-bye to yet another one of our brothers. Two weeks had passed since Mark went to jail. In that time, he was transferred to the state prison after attacking another inmate. I had heard that Mark had killed him and wasn't coming out for a very long time.

The service was short - none of us were very religious, and what was the pastor trying to fool us anyway? He had died like so many people had expected him to - from the moment he was born on the east side, his future was hopeless. By the time he was drafted it was almost certain. I just hadn't wanted to believe it.

I looked over at Darry - his face was hard and set, but he looked about ready to start bawling. Had he looked like this during Dally and Johnny's funeral? I had never known. He looked down, and I saw the unshed tears glisten in his eyes. I reached over and grabbed his hand. _It's okay. _Two-Bit was next to me, his eyes downcast. He had tears welling in his eyes too. I wondered how he'd think of us tough greasers crying at his funeral. I wasn't sure he'd like it very much. Probably would have thought he wasn't worth it.

I closed my eyes. It didn't help the pain, but the pastor's voice was soft and rumbling and if I tried hard enough, he could've been talking about anything. Anyone. And I could almost see his upturned eyebrow and his cocky grin at being called all these flowery things. If I tried hard enough, he was still here. And if I tried hard enough, everyone else was still here too.

"Let us pray."

We bowed our heads.

~/~

It was still drizzling by the time we got to the burial site. I was shivering under my jacket, and Darry clamped an arm around my shoulder. "Are you okay, Ponyboy?" he croaked.

I nodded, but my head hurt. "No," I corrected myself. "I don't think so."

I was in a haze. I didn't feel like any of this was actually happening. From the moment Steve and Sodapop had stepped onto their buses to boot camp, this whole war had been nothing more than a faraway place. A place that I wasn't allowed to go to, or know anything about - it was a place that I underestimated. That I hadn't expected could swallow up my brother and his best friend, and the thousands of other boys going to fight in the war. It still didn't feel real.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the guns went off. Darry looked down at me. "Easy, Ponyboy ... it's okay."

I nodded, finally feeling the tears well in my eyes. I watched as his casket - wrapped with the flag, as all the soldiers had - lower into the ground, and thought of all the stupid things I had said to him over the years. I felt horribly guilty all of a sudden - realizing that there was so much I had been ungrateful about.

I would never be able to apologize, or thank, or even talk to Steve Randle again.

"Hey, Ponyboy ..." I turned around and saw Two-Bit standing there looking somber. "How ya doin', kid?"

I shook my head. "Terrible. How could it happen now? He only had a few months left ..." I trailed off, thinking of how much longer Sodapop still had to go.

Sodapop. How could we tell him that his best friend was dead? They hadn't given us details, and we hadn't asked. He said he hadn't heard from Steve in a while, and it made me sick. Had he already been gone by the time Soda's letter got through? I didn't know anymore. I certainly didn't know how to tell Sodapop. I didn't know how he'd take it.

"Darry?" He looked down at me. "How're we gonna tell Soda?" Darry and Two-Bit shook their heads, as if they didn't know.

"We'll have to tell him, buddy. He has to know."

"He would've wanted to be here. God, Darry this is Steve's _funeral. _He wasn't even nineteen."

"I know, I know."

Two-Bit sighed. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. Cathy and Margaret were there, both looking solemn.

"Ponyboy, I'm so sorry," Margaret whispered, going in to give me a hug. I hugged her back, surprising her and myself. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with tears. How could a girl I barely knew feel so bad for me? I was oddly touched by her feeling. I had to almost remember that Cathy was there with her.

"Hi, Ponyboy." She nodded. She looked sad too, but not at all teary-eyed. Margaret bit her lip.

"I guess I'll leave you two alone then," she mumbled, looking crestfallen. I didn't want to be alone with Cathy. I felt sick to my stomach - I had wasted my whole winter pining over a girl, when I should've been supporting both Steve and Sodapop. I hadn't realized how quickly it could happen. The war would only keep taking things from me, and nothing would ever change that.

"Hi Cathy," I said monotonously. She nodded.

"I think I'm ready."

"Cathy, what - ?"

"For us to be more than just friends." I felt my heart drop. What?

There was a pause. "Or, if you just want - " I cut her off. Without even asking her, I kissed her right there. I was almost surprised when she kissed me back.

~/~

His father stayed afterwards, and an older boy with Steve's features stood beside him. I realized it was his brother. Neither said anything, looking down at his grave. I don't think anything could've been said.

Finally Mr. Randle turned away, and I caught his eye briefly. I nodded, and he closed his eyes as if it was too much to bear. Then I saw a petite girl walk up to the grave too, looking down at the marker. I walked up to her, and Darry just stood there with that same stony look.

"Evie, I'm so sorry ..."

She didn't even look up at me, but instead turned away from his grave and walked over to a clean-cut boy standing near the tree, looking awfully uncomfortable. She walked away with him to his car, but not before she turned around to look back one more time. Her fingers up to her collarbone, she looked back longingly at the site - to the guy who would always belong to her, even when she would no longer be his. She got into the car, and drove away on the rain-slicked road.

_Dear Ponyboy,_

_I know that I told Evie not to bug you any, and that this kind of just goes against everything I said before, but could you just let her know that I'm sorry? I love that goddamn chick like crazy, Ponyboy. If anything bad ever happened to her, I'd kill the bastard that hurt her. I got no right still claiming her after we just broke up and her going out with this Grady guy now - but I want her to know that I love her. Don't tell her now, but if anything happens to me - if I don't make it back - just tell her? Okay? I want her to know that I would've married her right as soon as I walked off the plane when I came back home. _

_Do something for yourself, Ponyboy. Keep up those good grades and get the hell outta Tulsa. Stay in school, go to Canada - do anything. Just don't come over here. You're better off anywhere else but here. That book you mentioned before - you still got it? It doesn't sound half bad. You get a bit of downtime over here, maybe you could send it to me. If you have it, I mean. _

_Tell Superman and Two-Bit I said hi. _

_-Steve_

_P.S. - Thanks for writing back._

**_January 27th, 1968. _**

~/~

He had been gone for about three weeks by the time I'd get his last letter. It gave me chills, opening it up and reading his words, back when he'd been alive and in love. It was eerie, almost like getting a letter from beyond the grave.

I read that last part, about the book I mentioned before, and felt sick again. I flipped the book over in my hand, rubbing my finger across the worn spine. He was glad I had written to him. He wanted me to stay safe. I imagined him out there, scared, bitter ... maybe even lonely. I remembered how much I disliked him, all because of Soda. It made me sad, thinking of how close we had gotten to making peace with each other.

I told Evie what he said.

She didn't say anything. All she could do was sob on my shoulder until she couldn't anymore. To tell you the truth, all I could think of doing was just to stand there and take it. Sometimes that's all you can do.

~/~

"You got everything?" Darry shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding to Two-Bit. Two-Bit gave him a thumbs-up and waltzed over to us with Annie in tow.

Two-Bit grinned at me. "Annie told me 'bout the knife."

I shrugged. "You mad?"

"No." He smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, kid." Before I could say anything, he had me in a bear hug. "You too, Two-Bit," I whispered.

Annie came next, and before she said anything I hugged her too. "Write to me if you need someone to talk to," I told her.

She bit her lip, nodding. "Thank-you, Pony. For everything."

I smiled at her, and patted her shoulder. Two-Bit honked the horn to get her attention. "You too, Annie. I hope your mom gets better."

Her smile was distant. "I hope so too." Then she walked away, and for the first time ever, our gang is reduced to two.

We waved good-bye until the car turned and we can't see it anymore.

~/~

_Cathy and I were together for about four months before we decided we weren't right for each other. _

_Even though we ended it on mutual terms, I think that the real reason why our relationship was doomed from the start was that even after all he had done, she was still in love with Bryon. And I could never be Bryon. I wouldn't change who I was. Not even for her._

~/~

My brother didn't come home from the war.

This shell of his former self that came back in '68 wasn't my brother. This thing that walked like Sodapop, sounded like Sodapop, and looked like Sodapop was an alien in my home. It was my own worst nightmare, seeing my brother fall so deep that I could never pull him back up.

The worst part was knowing that I might've had the power to help him, but my fear of falling under myself was too much to bear. The fear of drowning outweighed my fear of losing Soda, the person I loved most in the world. The three of us all battled our own inner demons for years, not knowing how to help each other. It all ended when my junior year of college passed, and Soda's became too much to bear. It ended when he left us, and never came back.

I realized then that the worst nightmare wasn't throat-ripping screams and blind terror and darkness.

It was the one in clear view that followed you for the rest of your life.

~/~

_For years afterwards, I would still think about these ghosts pressing down on me. Their presence was unbearable. I'd sift through my memories during the long, study-filled nights of my college years. After all I had lost - my parents, Johnny, Dallas, Mark, and Steve ... and finally even Sodapop - I didn't know what else could've been taken from me._

_I'd take long walks around campus those nights circling around the football stadium until the sun would rise across the stands. Those mornings were always proof that I'd make it through the next day. That there was still enough hope, still enough good in the world to lift up the rising sun. But every day I felt myself slip a little further. I didn't know how long it would take before I too disappeared._

~/~

We met again at Mark's funeral in '74.

She was still just as beautiful as I remembered, and by that point I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms and hear her soft whisper in my ear. I gazed at her across the grave, and held her stare. She didn't smile, she didn't respond. I longed for her touch, but couldn't bring myself to going over and asking for her forgiveness. After how stupid I had been, how selfish I had been for taking her friendship for granted in high school. Even after graduating, she had tried to keep in touch, and I had ignored her, wallowing in my own misery. I was ashamed.

She came up to me later as we were making our ways back to our separate cars. I was living in California by that point, but had come back for the funeral. I felt my heart stop. When she opened her mouth to speak, I knew my life wasn't ever going to be the same again,

"Hello, Ponyboy."

~/~

**~May 18th, 1978~**

_I hear babies cryin'. I watch them grow_  
_They'll learn much more, than I'll ever know_  
_And I think to myself, what a wonderful world._

"We have a problem."

I stop writing in my journal for a minute, and look at the hospital bed where Evie sits looking very serious. "Oh, hey. You're awake - should I get Ron?"

"Ponyboy," she whines. "We have a _big _problem! It's about the baby, you moron."

"What's that?" I mumble, and put away my composition notebook. The year is 1978, and Evie just gave birth to her first child a day ago. We had grown a lot closer after Sodapop came home. I only felt comfortable talking with her about losing my brother to drugs after she had lost Steve. She had finally dropped Grady and married a middle-class business man, Ron, who adored her. He had been by her side the whole time but had asked me to keep watch on her for a few minutes while he went to go get something to eat. I hadn't realized she was faking sleep.

"The baby's _fine_, Eve," I sigh. "When he's coming home? Two-Bit and Annie are here visiting with their families, and are coming over to Darry's on Saturday for dinner. You could come with Ron and the baby."

"That's the problem!" she gasps. "He's a _he."_

Oh_._

"Let Ron name him. You can't. He'd never forgive you."

She twirls the hospital band on her wrist, looking up coyly at me. "Ron doesn't know about him. I feel like ... I - " She sighs, and lowers her voice to a whisper. "I still feel him sometimes, you know? Like he's still part of my life, even though he's not here. That sounds weird, but ... " She sighs again, looking at the ceiling. "He wouldn't have to know."

"Yeah, but would _he_? I know Steve, Evie. He might've been a cocky, proud bastard but he wouldn't want you still pining over him. He'd never forgive you for being so sappy."

"Oh, come on. Giving my baby his name is _sappy_? He wasn't just my boyfriend - he was one of my best friends."

"It'd still make an awkward story for when he gets older and asks where his name comes from ... "

She smacks me on the arm, pouting. She glances at the balloon I have next to me. "Who's that for? Me?"

"No, it's for D.J ..." I grin. "He's in the hospital. Broke his arm playing rough with Kenny. Darry nearly had a stroke. Just had surgery on it last night."

"He sure loves that kid, huh?" she giggles. "How did Two-Bit take it? Kenny didn't get hurt?"

"Nah, that kid seems to glide out of trouble just as easily as his dad used to. Kathy sure was pissed off, though." Evie laughs.

"I can imagine! Oh, I miss Kathy ..." she sighs. "I wish Two-Bit and her had moved back to Oklahoma after his momma finally passed. I miss the two of them." She looks sad for a second, but continues on. "But then again, I wish you'd move back to Oklahoma too, kid. I miss _you_, living life large in California."

I chuckle. "I'll be here a while. I need to stay for my friend's wedding."

Evie cocks an eyebrow. "Which friend? Why wasn't I invited?"

"You don't know him." I grin. "Randy Adderson."

Randy had finally settled down with a nice girl from where he went to school in Nevada. She wasn't Cherry, but I guess no one ever would be. She had gone off and married the football coach at Will Roger's. She herself coached cheer leading for a rival school nearby.

"Oh, fine." Evie huffs, looking mad at not being invited to a wedding.

"We're staying for a while - with Darry and Laura. The wife missed Oklahoma too."

"How is ol' Margaret Collins, anyway?"

After we met again at Mark's funeral and I had taken Margaret out, I moved back to Tulsa temporarily to be with her. It took another six months to get her to come out with me to California and another three years to get her to marry me.

"She's doing good, Evie," I smiled. "Went with Ron to get something to eat though. I hope she brings me something."

"You Curtis boys, always hungry." Evie rolled her eyes.

There's a lot you don't know at fifteen that you know at twenty-five. One of them is finding the right girl. At fifteen, I had thought Cathy Carlson was all I'd ever want in a girl - brave, vivacious, catty. It had taken me a while to come around before I realized that I deserved a break from all the wildness in my life. And that came in the form Margaret. I had taken her kindness, her firm gentleness for granted. I would never make that mistake again.

"Have you heard from Sodapop lately?"

I feel my blood run cold. "Don't ruin it, Evie," I whisper. I hadn't heard from Sodapop since that terrible night he ran out on us. I heard he got help finally, and worked as a drug counselor. The irony was unimaginable. Despite him turning his life around, he hadn't contacted Darry or me since.

"He's living in New York," she informs me. "He misses you so much, honey."

"No he doesn't. He'd call. Or something."

"Oh, baby." Evie sighs. "He's forgotten how to do. He's turning his life around, and doesn't want to mess it up again. He's terrified of what you might think."

"I love him."

"I know."

Evie smiles, and leans in close to me. She's still glowing, and looks happier than I had seen her in a while. Tired, but happy. She really did look beautiful. She whispers, "Are you excited? My baby'll take care of yours if you'd move back. I hope yours is a girl, honey."

"Hmm," I sigh, pulling back and looking up at the ceiling. "She wants a girl."

There's a pause.

"I _like_ the name Steven."

I groan. Evie laughs. "What? I _do. _I don't have to name him Steven for Steve. I can just like the name, can't I?"

"You could call him Stevie." I wiggle my eyebrows, chortling.

"I used to call him that in the third grade," she sighs. "He'd get so mad; he kicked up dirt on my brand-new skirt one time while we were out for recess."

"Oh, no. What happened?"

"I pummeled him into the ground, of course. Stupid, skinny-assed twerp." I laugh.

"What about ..." She props herself up so she's sitting. She winces, and slides back down instead. "We name him Ryan, after Ron's father, and give him the middle name Steven?"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever works for you, kid." I kiss her on the forehead, and just then Ron and Margaret return. Ron is cradling his newborn son in his arms, and hands him over to Evie.

I go over to my own wife, who is resting her hands on her stomach. "Hi there." She pecks my lips softly. "Deep conversation?"

"I think she's still zonked out on pain meds, to tell you the truth."

"Hey, I heard that, you little greaseball." Ron rubs Evie's shoulders, but Evie doesn't pay attention, and only strokes her baby's face gently with a pinky finger.

"Ponyboy?" Evie's voice breaks the silence. "Look in my bag, there's something in the front pouch."

I open it, not really knowing what to expect. I feel a shock at what I see. Sodapop. His arm was wrapped around a beautiful girl cradling a little boy in her arms. He was smiling, and I felt as if my heart could explode at how happy he looked. Tired, but happy.

I read on further, and saw that it was an invitation. To his wedding.

There's a letter attached, still his handwriting. It explains that the girl next to him was the one from the letters all those years ago, and the little boy was his son. At the bottom there's a return address and a number.

_Could you ever forgive me, Ponyboy? I don't promise to be perfect, but I think you understand better than most. I love you, and I hope you can come. To be honest, I only really want to see you and Darry there (besides Sarah and Nicky, of course) on my wedding day. Sarah wants to meet you too. I tell her and Nicky all about you and Darry. So you've got quite the fanclub already out here in New York. The view of the sunset is mighty pretty from my apartment; I'm starting to see what you meant by that. I think I'm starting to see a lot of good that I hadn't seen before; I'd like to make some good too, and I want to start with you and Darry ... I'll wait, however long it takes for you to forgive me, kiddo. Love, Sodapop. _

I read the letter over a few more times like it's the answer to the meaning of life. I lift my head in shock to meet Evie's catty smile. She winks. "Told you he missed you.

In that moment, the floodgates open. Up until this moment, I hadn't really realized what Johnny had been talking about there still being good in the world. I understood perfectly now, because I could feel it all around me. I knew it was there, because I couldn't find a blessed thing I wanted to change about my life at the moment.

From finally finding the right girl who had been there all along, to saving both of my brothers, and having them save me in return. To getting a chance to see one more sunset. To seeing a past life being continued with this little baby in my best friend's arms.

It was a sort of beauty all on its own, and I accepted it and all of its impurities. Its flaws. Staying gold didn't mean having to stay perfect.

_My brother ..._

"Are you alright?" Margaret whispers in my ear like she had done all those years ago at Steve's funeral.

_Almost._

"Yes," I say finally, and squeeze her waist. "I think so."

"So, have we decided on a name?" Ron claps his hands once, but Evie only stares in awe at the baby in her arms, gazing up at her with such a breathtaking innocence and trust. This goodness that can't be bought, manufactured, or replaced - I finally understand. I close my eyes.

"Yes, I think so," Evie whispered.

And as if he understood, baby Ryan, Stevie, or whoever he was, laughed.

_Yes, I think to myself ... what a wonderful world. _

**THE END. **

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed it! C:

I'd love to thank all of my wonderful reviewers for being such an inspiration - all of you were fantastic, and I'd thank all of you individually if I could but I feel like that wouldn't even be enough. I want you all to know I'm very grateful for all you've said. Your kind words make me wish I could give you your own perfect ending to this story, but alas this is the ending I always intended on having. I hope you enjoyed it all the same - and thank-you _thank-you _for being a part of it!

A huge thanks to divine energy for being a fantastic beta reader - Dee, I worship the ground you walk on. You rock, chica.

Any WTF moments? Come talk to me; there's almost definitely a rational explanation for why I did it.


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